


the white mulberry tree

by bazzaya



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Covert Operation, Crimson Flower, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Issues, Meeting the Parents, Post-Canon, Spoilers, Tragedy, Tragedy/Comedy, Unrequited Love, i made the fake dating au sad guys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-01-06 06:02:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 53,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21221780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bazzaya/pseuds/bazzaya
Summary: When those who slither in the dark infiltrate House Ordelia once more, Lysithea is sent a message from her father asking for help. Edelgard insists on accompanying Lysithea on the journey back, but the Emperor making a personal visit to Ordelia territory would raise too much suspicion from the intruders. They need some sort of reason to justify Edelgard's presence in the region.Or, the fake dating AU where Lysithea must introduce Edelgard to her family as her fiancée in order to launch a covert operation into the inner workings of those who slither in the dark.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> the premise doesn't sound very sad but trust me it is sad!!! it's sad!!!!
> 
> and you can thank me for pulling off a canon compliant fake dating au successfully later. enjoy

Most people’s roles in the royal castle in relation to the Emperor are defined by one— or occasionally two— titles. Vassal. Prime Minister. Minister of Finance. Minister of War. Mentor.

Except Lysithea can’t find only one title to describe her newfound responsibilities serving the ruler of Fódlan. She’s an advisor, a high general of elite mage battalions, an apprentice to the new scholar-in-residence, a confidant to the Emperor, and maybe even a friend. Some may say she’s spreading herself too thin, yet she’s performing each and every role admirably. Her coalescence into the political and functional world of the Empire has gone more smoothly than many other former Kingdom and Alliance nobles. It’s almost as if she’s been destined to be part of the Emperor’s inner circle, like she’s the cog in the machine that no one knew had been missing.

After all, if she wasn’t around, she wouldn’t be able to help Ferdinand sort out all of the parchment papers of his draft proposal he would be presenting in the meeting due to begin in five minutes.

“How unthinkable!” Ferdinand laments, shuffling through papers, trying to discern their original order. “Unorganization of this degree is despicable in a member of the roundtable! I cannot believe I let this happen…”

Lysithea barely pays his theatrics any heed, instead walking with him, flipping and turning through the parchment she’s gathered, passing some to Ferdinand when she slowly comes to place them in order. “To be frank, I don’t think anybody was expecting a servant to be running through the halls fast enough to knock someone over. I wonder what’s given her such a fright…”

“Ferdinand, Ferdinand, Ferdinand…” a voice from behind them says. “Do not tell me you are not prepared for your proposal briefing at the next meeting.”

Lysithea feels a chill run through her spine, though she isn’t actually fazed; that’s just how her body tells her Hubert’s arrived. “Nevermind. I think I figured it out.”

“I am _ not _ unprepared!” Ferdinand protests. “I have merely...run into an obstacle that’s given me some trouble!”

“Quite literally,” Lysithea says flatly, her eyes still on the papers in her hands. “Must you be so verbose in your writing, Ferdinand? I swear, a few sentences could more clearly deliver the points that you make spanning 10 pages…”

“My proposal is extensive! I must be as detailed as can be to ensure that there are not any misconceptions or loopholes when this policy is implemented!” Ferdinand says. “This policy must be perfect to breed the most success!”

“Must you project your voice so loudly with every word that comes out of your mouth?” Hubert sighs.

“I care quite personally about this idea, Hubert! My voice will carry the same passion in my heart!” Ferdinand says.

“Is this that education proposal that has gotten you so excited, Ferdinand? I can hear you from down the halls,” another voice says, and a peer over her shoulder shows Lysithea that it’s Edelgard catching up to them from behind.

“Is my voice truly that loud…?” Ferdinand asks, troubled, with a bead of sweat trickling down his brow. “But, yes, Your Majesty. That is the very proposal I will be presenting momentarily. I assure you that my arguments will be able to sway even you with ease.”

“We shall see,” Edelgard flashes a small grin. “But do not so count on it.”

“You know as well as I do that if a meritocracy is your ultimate goal, then you must establish some way for people outside of the nobility to be able to prove their merits, lest you want to keep those who are not so privileged uneducated and on the bottom rung of society forever,” Lysithea says.

Edelgard lets out an amused hum. “You would be correct. Though I shouldn’t be so surprised that the author of the prolific tax reform proposal that’s been applauded throughout the nation has such irrefutable logic.”

Lysithea huffs at that. “Let’s just say I know bad taxes when I see them. It wasn’t anything spectacular.”

“A member of Her Majesty’s esteemed duo of advisors shouldn’t be devaluing her work so deeply,” Hubert says. 

“T...Trio of advisors,” Ferdinand says, deflated. “Do not forget me amongst you two…”

“Enough of that,” Edelgard shakes her head, though she still holds that same bemused smile on her lips. “We’re going to be late if we keep going at this rate.”

Lysithea lets out a sigh. “I’m almost finished reorganizing these papers—”

“Lady Ordelia!”

Furrowing her brow in a mix of annoyance at that name and confusion, Lysithea turns to the source of the voice, seeing a guard hurrying her way. She stops in her tracks, as does everyone else in the group.

“What is it?” she asks.

The soldier comes to a halt and stands at attention, bowing his head. “A messenger from House Ordelia has appeared at the palace gates in frantic search of you! He says he has dire news concerning the condition of your family’s estate!” 

Lysithea’s eyes widen slightly, and she looks back at the others in surprise. They all look back at her with the same concern and confusion, and Ferdinand is the first to break the silence by reaching out and taking the stack of papers into his arms.

“Please, allow me…” he says carefully, otherwise softspoken and of few words as compared to usual.

“Go,” Edelgard says with a firm nod. “We won’t approve anything without giving you the opportunity to look the proposal over and contribute to its amendments. You can rejoin us later.”

Lysithea spares Hubert a glance as well, seeing him nod too. She clenches her jaw tightly and looks back to the guard. “Take me to him. I need to hear it from him.”

“Please, follow me, Lady Ordelia!” the guard bows before starting in a certain direction.

It takes a few seconds for Lysithea to follow him, her expression a grimace. “Please stop calling me that…” she mutters to herself, but she ultimately starts walking after the soldier.

As she walks, a pit of dread wells in her stomach, and she balls her fists at her sides. She already knows that the news that awaits her cannot be anything good, and she tries to prepare herself for the many possible announcements could be made. Has one of her parents passed away? Are the people starting to revolt? Is there some sort of natural disaster threatening the territory? Is a neighboring territory stirring up trouble?

Each possibility worsens that pit of dread in her stomach, and Lysithea can feel her mouth start to go dry. Eventually she decides that fretting over every possibility is going to do her more harm than good, and she forces herself to push that hypothesizing out of her mind. All she can do is steel herself for the news she’s about to receive, choosing to just wait and see before working herself up before even hearing it.

“He wished to deliver the news in private. He is just ahead in an unused office,” the guard reports. “Do you need me present in the room with you?”

“I can handle myself,” Lysithea shakes her head. “Wait here.”

The guard nods and quickly takes up position by the door once Lysithea lets herself inside. When she steps into the room, she can see a man a few years older than her with shoulder-length black hair pacing about the room, disheveled and with his suit in tatters. Some blood stains his clothes, immediately catching Lysithea’s eye and filling her with a rush of panic.

“Osric!” Lysithea stammers, quickly crossing the room to his side. “What has happened to you?!”

“I-I’m sorry to frighten you, Lady Lysithea,” Osric says guiltily, averting his gaze. “I ran here as quickly as I could at the request of your father. The journey…was not kind to me.”

“Let me heal you,” Lysithea says sternly, her hands already aglow with light magic. She doesn’t give Osric the opportunity to resist before she begins the spell.

“I’m sorry for this burden,” Osric says in a quiet voice, his eyes trained on the floor. 

“Stop that,” Lysithea shakes her head. “Tell me what happened. That’s why you’re here, is it not?”

Osric slowly nods his head, and he lets out a breath to feel the relief of the healing magic on his wounds. “House Ordelia… It has been compromised. Your father tells me this isn’t the first time, either.”

Lysithea’s gaze snaps up to meet Osric’s own in a flash, shocked. “Compromised? By who?!”

“The same as the last time, I’ve been told,” Osric says gravely. “Your father sent me away shortly after they arrived so they wouldn’t notice me there. I only managed to catch a glimpse of one, but… they looked like Imperial mages.”

Her surprised eyes slowly come to narrow, a carefully contained fury building inside of her. “They’re not from the Empire.”

“You know of them?” Osric asks, surprised.

Lysithea nods her head rigidly. “They infiltrated our territory nearly 18 years ago, long before you were employed as a butler. Our house has barely even began to recover from the damage they caused.”

Orsic’s jaw visibly clenches as Lysithea tells him the tale. “Count Voltemand told me to relay this news onto you, saying you would know a way to correct this problem. I’m sorry I do not have a letter or anything from him… Once he became aware of their presence, I was set off immediately. There was no time for anything else.”

“Stop apologizing so much,” Lysithea says quietly, her concern otherwise unspoken. “I need to speak with the Emperor. As much as I would like to tear apart every one of those mages right now… we need to be smart about this. There’s a larger threat lurking in the dark that we have to be mindful of. We need tact.”

“Something you don’t have,” Osric jokes in a quiet voice, allowing himself a fleeting smile.

“Why do you think I’m leaving the planning to someone else?” Lysithea replies, and even though her tone isn’t very playful, it’s clear that she’s playing along.

But that doesn’t mean that Osric can keep up with such a lighthearted diversion, and he watches as Lysithea pulls away from his side to go to the door. “Thank you for your help, Lysithea. I’m sorry that I had to disturb you in the capital. Everyone in the estate knows how much you’re enjoying yourself here and how you’ve found a place to belong,” he pauses for a moment, before gently adding, “Your father is proud of you.”

Lysithea feels a rush of emotion well in her throat, but she swallows it down and shakes her head, coming to a stop. “I thought I told you to stop apologizing.”

“My mistake,” Osric says with a bow of his head.

Lysithea glances back at him and takes a step forward, but she can’t move too far, since a question nags at her ever since Osric mentioned her father. “…And my mother?”

The hesitation in Osric’s voice tells it all. “...She does not speak of you often, but she is proud as well. I know it.”

Lysithea’s gaze falls to the ground and a frown pulls at her lips, though she shoves those feelings aside and refocuses herself. “Right. Have the guard escort you to the infirmary to treat you properly. We will be returning to Ordelia territory soon, and you’ll be home before you know it.”

Osric raises an eyebrow. Won’t she be returning home, too? “Yes, Lady Lysithea. I will await your decision.”

Lysithea nods her head and leaves the room, letting out a deep, burdened breath as she does so. She lowers her shoulders, only noticing now how high and tense they were. Yet even as she does so, she doesn’t feel any less tense.

Those who slither in the dark… She supposes their return was only inevitable after the end of the war against the Church. Still, their motives perplex her. Why have they infiltrated her house again? What could possibly be their goal that drives them?

She lets out another breath, her gaze flitting about the room, anxious. She needs to meet with everyone again. This isn’t something she can manage on her own.

* * *

When Ferdinand’s proposal briefing ends and everyone gathers their materials to dismiss the session for the day, there is an unspoken question aimed towards Lysithea that’s practically tangible through the silence. _ What was that messenger all about? _ they’re all thinking. She knows it. Ferdinand doesn’t even attempt to hide his stare, though Hubert’s eyes on her are far more disguised; she can only discern them when she feels that chill upon her skin.

Though Edelgard doesn’t operate that passively. Once she finishes gathering her affairs, she addresses Lysithea directly. 

“What was the nature of the situation with your estate?” Edelgard asks, no emotional bias to her voice, merely professional curiosity. “If it was a personal matter, then I do not wish to pry.”

Lysithea shakes her head. “No, it’s more serious than that,” she says. A beat of pause follows before Lysithea tersely relays the news to her. “They’re back.”

Edelgard’s gaze snaps up from the papers in her hands to meet Lysithea’s in a split-second. Before she can inquire further, she’s beaten to the punch by Ferdinand.

“Who’s back?” Ferdinand asks.

“Those who slither in the dark,” Hubert snarls, his tone filled with disgust.

“What are they planning…” Edelgard grumbles, her hands turning into fists where they rest on the table.

“I don't know, but my father has asked for my help. I need to figure out how to fix this,” Lysithea says.

“The Imperial forces haven't fully disseminated following the end of the war,” Ferdinand says. “We can rally them back to arms and take back House Ordelia—”

“Impossible,” Hubert says firmly. “Their reach extends far beyond whatever forces they have stationed in House Ordelia. An overt attack would cause them to unleash the full extent of their power on us within seconds.”

“Then we find their stronghold and target there _ and _ House Ordelia to save them from their dastardly clutches!” Ferdinand says.

“Hubert,” Edelgard cuts in. “How far are you in discerning the location of their stronghold?”

Hubert stays quiet for a moment, crossing his arms. “Not as far as I would like to be. Please forgive me, Your Majesty..”

“Enough,” Edelgard shakes her head. “If an overt attack is impossible, then we must act covertly. Lysithea and I will make the journey to House Ordelia to uncover what we can.”

“‘_We_’?” Lysithea furrows her eyebrows. “Are we sure that’s a good idea? They know who you are. If they notice you making a personal house visit, they’ll know something is up, and they’ll act accordingly,” she says darkly. “And you know that’s not a good thing.”

“Then we can send Hubert alongside you so he can ascertain their stronghold’s location!” Ferdinand interjects.

Edelgard shakes her head again. “His main network of information can only be accessed through Enbarr. He’d be of much more use here than he would in House Ordelia.”

“Then send me!” Ferdinand says. “Anything is more practical than sending you, Edelgard! It’s too dangerous!”

“I cannot agree to that, as well,: Edelgard says. “Your policy work cannot be halted now. The Prime Minister’s position is too key for a leave of absence in the midst of policy reform and implementation. My responsibilities, on the other hand, can be divided and partitioned to each of my high officers in my absence.”

Lysithea watches Edelgard carefully as she speaks, her expression skeptical and her arms crossed over her chest. For the life of her, she cannot pin down Edelgard’s motives when otherwise, it’s quite easy to discern them. “Why are you so hellbent on joining me, Edelgard?” she asks warily, her eyes narrowed.

“I will _ not _ stand aside as my uncle and his followers stage a direct act of aggression against one of my main advisors, not when this isn’t the first time they’ve done so, either,” Edelgard says gravely, her eyes meeting Lysithea’s own, steeled in determination. “They are taking risks, and so shall we. We no longer require their alliance— they _ know _this. They are moving to get a foothold into the Empire to strike, and your territory is the stepping stone. I’m finished with setting aside my grievances with them. Now, I act.”

“Your Majesty, I highly suggest you reconsider—” Hubert begins, though he’s interrupted.

“You know what I say is true, Hubert,” Edelgard counters. “Any sort of appeasement or turning the other cheek will only come to hurt us in the long run. They’re moving to strike, and we have to act accordingly.”

Letting out a sharp breath, Lysithea clenches her jaw and lowers her gaze. There’s little she can do to refute with that logic, and she knows that well. Now, all she can do is find a way to make this plan move as smoothly as possible. “...Then we’ll need a cover that makes this visit seem like just a coincidence, and that would warrant a long stay.”

“You can negotiate a new trading treaty with the capital!” Ferdinand says. 

“Something that was already done with my father a month ago,” Lysithea sighs. “At this point, a revision would only warrant a weeklong stay at the most, if one of us pretends to play hardball long enough.”

“The other territories would think we’re playing favorites with Count Ordelia if they learned about another trade deal so quickly after the first,” Hubert says.

Edelgard looks to Lysithea, and they meet eyes, with Lysithea looking at Edelgard expectantly for any ideas, given this is all at her insistence. Though Edelgard doesn’t speak up, and Lysithea sighs again and closes her eyes, lowering her head. She wracks her head for any reason she’d have to bring Edelgard back to House Ordelia. She even tries to think of ways she could take Edelgard with her outside of anything political or relating to the Empire, like as a friendly visit. Yet, they’d have trouble justifying themselves if Lysithea brought Edelgard home as just a friend—

Lysithea swallows, regretting the idea as soon as her stream of consciousness leads her there. She tries to pretend like she never thought of everything, but her expression must have given her away.

“Have you thought of a plan?” Edelgard asks.

Lysithea hesitates. “Y…Yes, but it’s not a good one. Forget about it. Let me try thinking for a little while longer.”

Edelgard shakes her head. “Anything is better than nothing. Let’s hear it.”

Lysithea has to let out a deep breath to ready herself, and she can feel a fluster brew in her cheeks just thinking about it. It doesn’t help that Hubert and Ferdinand are in the room with them, making it all the more difficult to share the ridiculous idea that’s crossed her mind.

“The…The ring,” Lysithea begins, her voice just barely level. “We can return to my territory to receive the ring that’s been in my family for generations.”

“A...ring?” Edelgard asks, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

Lysithea slowly nods her head. “If we go to get the ring, we can introduce you to my parents, and… we’ll have the issue of event planning as an excuse for us to stay for an extended amount of time. It…It might work.”

Edelgard still looks at Lysithea, confused by her vague terms. Yet Hubert seems to understand them, prompting him to speak up.

“...Lysithea,” Hubert begins warily. “Are you proposing that you and Her Majesty use a wedding engagement as a ruse to return to House Ordelia?”

Edelgard’s eyes snap back to Lysithea in that moment, slightly widened from surprise. Ferdinand’s expression is far less muted in terms of his complete shock.

“I do not believe that ‘propose’ is an appropriate word to use in this context, Hubert…” Ferdinand stammers, his face reddening from embarrassment.

“Is this true, Lysithea?” Edelgard asks, still unable to fully mask her surprise, and frankly confusion. “Is this your plan?”

Lysithea doesn’t trust herself to speak immediately, and she reluctantly nods her head. “It...is a foolish idea. Let me think of something else, please—”

“No, I—” Edelgard clears her throat. “This might actually provide us with sufficient enough time to accomplish everything we must. Wedding planning, especially among nobility, is an arduous process. We will be able to stay for quite a while in order to properly sort out the arrangement…”

Lysithea can feel herself tense from disbelief, startled that Edelgard is even entertaining her idea. “Are you sure about this?”

“Are you?” Edelgard asks. “This is your territory on the line, and your family in danger. How far are you willing to go to protect them?”

Lysithea’s jaw tightens the more she holds eye contact with Edelgard. It’s a challenge and Lysithea knows it well, and Lysithea can feel herself unwilling to fail. The answer is unmistakable. When her family has been the crux of her motivation since enrolling in the Officers Academy, even to siding with the Empire in the war to avenge their suffering, she knows full well deep down that there’s no lengths that she wouldn’t go to for their sake.

“Whatever it takes,” Lysithea replies in a low, grave voice. 

“As am I,” Edelgard responds with equal conviction. “I will put an end to this alliance with my uncle as soon as we are able. It’s high time that I hold them accountable for everything they’ve done— to us. To you.”

Lysithea’s expression falters at that last addendum to Edelgard’s words, but she composes herself enough to nod her head. 

Hubert crosses his arms and clears his throat, his eyes closed in displeasure. “If this is the course of action we will take, then we must take great care in discerning the details. A ruse of this nature can only be successful if we are thorough, and committed.”

“And I will reorganize duties among the ministers and high officers,” Ferdinand says after a pause.

“Then it is settled,” Edelgard says, glancing at Lysithea. “Once we have detailed everything, we will make the journey to your territory. Does that sound agreeable to you?”

“Yes,” Lysithea says with a short breath. “I’ll go inform Osric…”

Everyone files out of the room after that, though Lysithea lingers behind. She wrings her hands together, closing her eyes and shaking her head to herself.

She’s willing to do anything for the sake of her family, but that doesn’t mean that she has to like it...

* * *

The carriage ride to Ordelia territory from Enbarr is done in mostly silence. 

Lysithea and Edelgard sit on opposite sides of the carriage, and Lysithea has both her arms and her legs crossed, her head low and her eyes closed. For a good portion of the ride, Edelgard has her gaze fixated out of the small window to the outside, watching the passing scenery. The closer they get to the old border between the Empire and the Alliance, the greener the land becomes.

Though, even with the scenery, sometimes Edelgard can’t help but glance Lysithea’s way. Lysithea doesn’t look up to catch Edelgard when she does so, but she can feel her gaze on her. Unlike the chills that course through Lysithea’s spine whenever Hubert nears her, Lysithea can discern Edelgard’s presence through a sudden flash of heat that hits her head and then swarms her all at once. Whenever that burst of heat occurs, Lysithea knows Edelgard’s looking at her.

At one point, when the warmth is particularly strong, Lysithea lifts her head and opens her eyes, meeting Edelgard’s gaze. Edelgard doesn’t flinch, nor does she seem surprised that Lysithea knew she was watching her; instead, she just holds Lysithea’s gaze for a moment, expression plain and pensive. Lysithea clenches her jaw. Edelgard always looks plainer and less hardened with her hair down. It just makes her gaze on her all the more…delicate. Like they’re already pretending.

Have they already started?

“What?” Lysithea asks amidst the silence. Neither of them spoke for a long time since meeting each other’s gaze.

Edelgard shakes her head. “Nothing. You just looked bothered.”

“Ah,” Lysithea hums, looking away.

“Is something bothering you?”

Lysithea lets out a breath and blinks, staring at the carriage wall to the side. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

Edelgard’s eyebrows knit together in a flash of concern. “Having second thoughts?”

“No,” Lysithea sighs, burdened. “Our goal is more important than the means, and nothing will change that for me. I’m just…hung up on the means.”

Edelgard lets out an amused hum, but she doesn’t smile. “It’s a bit unconventional, I understand. But the ruse shouldn’t be too hard to maintain. We detailed things rather meticulously. I doubt between you and I that there’ll be any issues sticking to that protocol.”

Lysithea closes her eyes. Yes, they did comb over each and every little detail. Almost embarrassingly so— to the limits of affection they can and cannot bring themselves to engage in. Everything is so well-thought out, and Lysithea knows that they’re not the type to go past the outlines they set.

Yet she still feels that dread and discomfort at the thought of it all, of being so intimate with Edelgard, in front of her parents, and to have all of it be a lie, no less—

Lysithea doesn’t respond. She just looks out the window, feeling a miserable frown pull at her lips.

Edelgard turns her gaze to the window when she realizes Lysithea won’t reply, and she tilts her head, feeling a pleasant contentment wash over her.

“I never knew the Ordelia territory was so beautiful.”

Lysithea hums in confusion at first, but when Edelgard’s words settle in for her, she looks away again and slowly nods. “We do have impressive greenery and forestry. Our estate is relatively small as to not infringe on the nature around us,” she pauses, adding with a bitter note. “That, and we’re not exactly the most esteemed noble family around.”

Edelgard raises an eyebrow to that. “I thought you didn’t care for the high nobility and frivolous displays of wealth.”

“I…I don’t,” Lysithea huffs. “I guess I’m just…a little self-conscious. Our estate is nothing like the royal palace in Enbarr.”

“Oh, so you think _ I _care about the high nobility and frivolous displays of wealth,” Edelgard flashes a smile. “There’s no need for those reservations, you know. If the wildlife is half as impressive as you say, I’m sure this change in scenery will be a nice change of pace compared to Enbarr.”

Lysithea scrunches her nose. “You’re acting like this is a vacation.”

“Forgive me for choosing to see something positive in this scenario as opposed to your constant sea of negativity.”

There’s a prick to Edelgard’s words that stings, and Lysithea lets out a begrudging sigh. “...You’re right. I’m sorry. This whole thing is stressing me out. I’m worried about my parents.”

“We will protect them,” Edelgard says, and her tone is that same hardened one she uses as the Emperor. When Lysithea looks back at her, she can see the deep, determined furrow of Edelgard’s brow to match her resolute words. “Between you and I, we can handle this. Hubert should have information regarding their stronghold soon. Their reign of tyranny over this continent— over _ us_— will soon come to an end. And to that, you have my word.”

Lysithea swallows as she holds Edelgard’s gaze, unable to say anything else to that. Fortunately for her, the carriage comes to a stop, and a knock soon comes at the door.

“Lady Lysithea, Your Majesty,” Osric says, opening the door. “We have arrived.”

Osric holds the door for Lysithea, who makes her dismount from the carriage first. Once she’s on the ground, she turns towards Edelgard and lets out a soft breath to prepare herself before holding out her hand. Edelgard takes a gentle hold of it and uses it to help herself out of the carriage. Once they’re side by side on the ground, they meet each other’s eyes, and there’s an unspoken question shared between them, asking if the other is ready.

Edelgard nods, and Lysithea lets out a pointed exhale before turning towards the estate that rests at the end of the stone path. Their hands, still joined from when Lysithea helped Edelgard out of the carriage, slowly move to interlock their fingers, and Lysithea feels a pit of unease surface in her stomach.

But she forces herself to pay that no heed, and to move forward.

And Edelgard’s hand in hers, a comforting presence yet still so firm and resolute, helps to spur Lysithea onward.

In the heat of that moment, all Lysithea can feel is conflicting emotion.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Then what brings the Emperor here for a personal home visit?” Rosalind asks, though her gaze is trained on Lysithea.
> 
> “I brought her with me because there’s important news we’d like to share, and I wished for you two to be the first to hear it,” Lysithea steps closer to Edelgard, and Edelgard returns the gesture in kind. 
> 
> And the curtain on this production finally rises as their hands join together once again.
> 
> “Edelgard is here as my fiancée,” Lysithea says, turning to face Edelgard, noticing how her words leave her breathlessly. “When Edelgard asked me to marry her… I didn’t hesitate in saying yes.”

The short walk from the gates to the doors of the Ordelia estate is excruciating.

It feels like the final march of the hanged, from captivity to the gallows, except in this scenario, the crime has not already occurred in the past.

No, the crime is the act of walking itself. Hand in hand with someone else, falsifying an engagement, presenting this lie to her family— her own _ blood— _ under the pretext of a higher cause.

Yet this is for their own good, Lysithea must remind herself. This is how they will be saved. The ends must justify the means. 

Lysithea swallows every morbid thought and forces her mind to be calm as they approach the doors, and the doors to the estate open to welcome them. Lysithea squeezes Edelgard’s hand in that moment, needing her support, and to her surprise, Edelgard’s hand squeezes hers back ever so slightly. 

It gives Lysithea the reassurance she needs to cross the threshold with Edelgard, the cobblestone under their feet turning into marble as they step inside the manor. The entrance hall does not look as extravagant and large as one might expect— it’s there to lead into the parlor, which is surrounded by bookcases and candles, so much to the point where it looks like a miniature library.

Osric joins the side of two figures who stand in the hall. One of those figures is a man who stands tall, his black hair slicked back, tumbling to his shoulders in various strands of curls. He wears a three piece suit, with the blazer sporting a longer tail, and his cravat is fastened into place by a gold and red brooch. Most notably of all, he wears a smile upon his face, spreading the arms to his sides.

“My little girl has returned!” he says proudly, and Lysithea immediately winces, much to Edelgard’s amusement. Edelgard doesn’t voice it, however. She merely looks at Lysithea with a hint of a smile and a raised eyebrow.

“F-Father…” Lysithea mumbles, feeling her cheeks redden. “This is hardly necessary…”

“But it has been five years, my little lamb! I have missed you dearly!” Voltemand says, and he walks forward to quickly wrap his arms around Lysithea in a loving hug. “My, have you grown! Do you remember when you could only reach your dearest father’s waist when you departed for the Officers Academy? Now I can properly bring you into my arms for a hug!”

Lysithea squeezes her eyes shut from embarrassment, but she cannot help the smile that curves her lips. “I think you’re exaggerating a little! I was_ not _that short!”

Edelgard’s hand slips out of her own and she steps aside to allow Lysithea a moment with her father. Lysithea, once her hand is free, wraps her arms around her father’s back. She’s able to slightly peer over his shoulder, and she feels her whole body tense when she meets bright, cherry red eyes of the other figure who was beside Voltemand.

Just from that glance, Lysithea can feel her mother’s scrutiny, and the smile upon Rosalind’s pale face comes much too delayed. An unsettling swirl of dread takes root in the pit of Lysithea’s stomach from the fleeting eye contact. Matters only worsen when Voltemand breaks off the hug and steps back, putting Rosalind back into Lysithea’s line of sight.

“For a moment there, I was unsure which white-haired woman was my daughter. You have been gone so long, I hardly recognize you, Lysithea,” Rosalind says. “Your visit today is rather surprising. Have you brought along someone for us to meet?”

Lysithea has to let out a breath to suppress the discomfort from her mother’s words. She glances over at Edelgard and flashes a smile, assuming the role she must play in this plan. “I do. This is Edelgard. You’ll know her best as the Emperor of Fódlan.”

Voltemand quickly corrects his posture and adopts a formal expression, setting a hand over his chest and bowing. “I beg your forgiveness, Your Majesty. Were I aware of your identity, I would have never gone without proper address—”

“Please, I’m hardly here on official business,” Edelgard says with a shake of her head. “I do not stand in front of you as your Emperor right now.”

“Then what brings the Emperor here for a personal home visit?” Rosalind asks, though her gaze is trained on Lysithea.

“I brought her with me because there’s important news we’d like to share, and I wished for you two to be the first to hear it,” Lysithea steps closer to Edelgard, and Edelgard returns the gesture in kind. 

And the curtain on this production finally rises as their hands join together once again.

“Edelgard is here as my fiancée,” Lysithea says, turning to face Edelgard, noticing how her words leave her breathlessly. “When Edelgard asked me to marry her… I didn’t hesitate in saying yes.”

Lysithea watches how Edelgard flashes her a smile, yet she can see the way her jaw clenches ever so slightly. She then turns her attention back to her parents, gauging their response to the news. She can feel her heart in her chest snap, the lie already spoken, unable to be taken back. The charade has begun, the wheels are in motion, and there is no going back.

Lysithea can only hope that this won’t be all for naught.

While Rosalind is still aghast, her mouth open and stunned, Voltemand’s surprise fades the quickest. 

“You truly have grown quite a great deal, my dear Lysithea…” he says, marveling at the news. “Your Majesty, please allow me to organize a feast to mark this wondrous occasion.”

“These formalities are hardly necessary,” Edelgard holds up a hand and waves him off. “If we’re to be family, then I would sure hope we can treat each other as such.”

“You would be correct. Forgive my errors,” Voltemand lets out a deep exhale, reordering his demeanor. “Though I must insist on the feast. If it shall not be for formality’s sake, then please consider it as my way of expressing my deepest gratitude for making my most cherished daughter happy.”

“That, I shall happily accept,” Edelgard sends him a small grin, nodding her head. “Thank you for your hospitality. I appreciate it greatly.”

“My daughter’s newly betrothed is nothing short of a guest of honor in my estate. This is the least I can show you,” Voltemand glances over at Lysithea, finding it difficult to mask his joy. “But first, I must ask you to follow me, Lysithea. I believe you know what I must pass over to you.”

Lysithea nods her head, a smile of her own budding on her lips, even if it doesn’t quite reach her eyes as much as she desires it to. “Right.”

“Edelgard, please allow my wife to see you and your belongings to Lysithea’s old chambers in the meanwhile,” Voltemand quickly turns to Lysithea after that. “Did you hear that, my dear Lysithea? Soon you will also be able to use ‘my wife’ to refer to someone, too!”

“F-Father!” Lysithea stammers, covering her mouth in embarrassment. She hears a quiet laugh from beside her, and she looks to see Edelgard looking rather amused with herself. Lysithea huffs and nudges her in the arm, only rewarding herself with a wider grin from Edelgard, even when Edelgard looks away, caught in her crime.

Rosalind clears her throat besides Edelgard, gathering attention back on her. “Come. Osric will show you to your chambers.”

Lysithea watches as Edelgard nods her head and steps away, and for a moment she meets her mother’s eyes again. There’s no contempt in those eyes, yet there’s _ some _ emotion shining there. Lysithea only sees it for a flash, and it feels all too familiar. Disappointment? Sadness? Pain?

Lysithea looks away, swallowing down the sick feeling rising in her throat. She follows her father to his chambers. The walk is done in silence, but she can feel her father’s excitement emanate off of his body, in every step. It brings a smile to her face for a moment, but it fades when she remembers this is all a lie, and that his excitement is soon to be crushed at her hand, yanked out from under him nearly the moment he’s experienced it.

Once they arrive, her father produces a small box guarded by a magic lock. He unlocks it, and he reveals the heirloom ring, a black band adorned with jewels of white and red. Lysithea reaches out for it after a moment’s hesitation, but her hand ultimately drops back to her side. She opens her mouth to speak, but her father does so first.

“I am sorry, Lysithea,” Voltemand says quietly. “I had long hoped you would be able to experience this day, and experience it happily, but I am afraid that those villains have returned to haunt us… I was unable to protect your precious day. I have failed you…”

“Father…” Lysithea’s eyebrows crease together from concern. “Do not blame yourself for this. I received your distress message. I’m here to protect you from those awful people.”

“I am sorry that this unfortunate circumstance had to coincide with your special day,” he shakes his head. “Someday, I pray you can find it within yourself to forgive me.”

Lysithea lowers her head, closing her eyes and drawing in her strength. “There is no special day, Father. This whole thing is a charade. It’s a cover so the Emperor and I can snuff out the mages who infiltrated our house again without anyone getting suspicious of our sudden return.”

“So… the announcement is not real…?” Voltemand asks, and he holds the ring closer to his chest.

Lysithea slowly shakes her head. “No. I’m sorry to lie like this, but… it’s something we must do.”

“I… I see,” Voltemand looks down at the ring. “I suppose you will not be needing this after all.”

“...I do,” Lysithea hesitates. “This has to be as realistic as possible. We’ll be in substantially more danger if people realize that Edelgard and I aren’t here for the reasons we said. I’m sorry. I need the ring.”

Voltemand clenches his jaw, but he hands over the ring as requested. “I place my faith in you, my dear Lysithea. I trust your intelligence and cunning will be what saves us.”

“Thank you,” Lysithea says quietly, taking the ring in hand. She doesn’t lift her gaze to meet his eye, instead staring at the ring as unease settles in her stomach. “No one can know this isn’t real, Father. And no one outside of this manor can know of this engagement.”

“I will let your mother know so we can coordinate—”

“No,” Lysithea says shakily, and she slowly looks up at him. “Not even she can know. Only you and Osric are allowed to know the truth. Anyone else, and we are at too much of a risk for a leak.”

Voltemand holds Lysithea’s gaze for a moment, but he eventually comes to accept her terms, nodding his head. “As you wish. I trust this in your capable hands.”

“Thank you, Father…” Lysithea whispers, and she steps forward into his arms, resting her head against his chest and closing her eyes. “I’m sorry this happened again…”

Voltemand takes Lysithea into his arms and holds her tightly, like he’s afraid he’ll lose her. “No, _ I _ am sorry for being too weak to protect this house again, and for dragging you back into this torment…”

“I’m older now, Father,” Lysithea says, and her voice grows stronger as she speaks. Her eyes open and she lifts her head, able to glance over his shoulder, her gaze narrowed into an inflamed glare. “I swear on my family name, this is the last time we shall ever suffer by their hands… The very curse they bestowed onto me shall be the force that drives the nail into their coffin for eternity. Edelgard and I will not leave until this rot is exterminated forever.”

“Be careful, Lysithea,” Voltemand squeezes her a little tighter. “I do not wish for them to hurt you a second time.”

“I will. I swear it,” Lysithea says firmly. She pulls away from the embrace, her hand resting on her father’s arm. 

“I will help you behind the scenes however I can,” Voltemand says. “Thank you for answering my call.”

Lysithea nods. The guilt she felt to lie to her father dissipates a little to know that he knows the truth, but she knows this relief can only happen once; everyone else must remain in the dark, and she must lie to them. As they leave the room, Lysithea becomes torn over this lie again, feeling that unease wrack inside her stomach, lingering, spreading through her. 

She only hopes that she won’t be consumed by it.

* * *

Lysithea opens the doors to her chambers, finding Edelgard inside with Osric, folding and organizing clothes. They’re in the midst of a conversation when Lysithea walks in, though they quiet themselves at her arrival.

“Oh—” Lysithea blinks. “Don’t stop just because I’m here. It’s nice seeing you two get along.”

“We were nearing the end of our topic, worry not,” Osric says. “Please excuse me. I will summon you once dinner is ready.”

“Let’s speak again soon, Osric,” Edelgard says. “And thank you.”

“Of course,” Osric nods his head. He nods to Lysithea as well in goodbye, leaving the two on their own.

“Has he been in your family’s service for some time, now?” Edelgard asks, busying herself with folding her clothes from her luggage. “He seems to know you well.”

Lysithea nods, and she starts to do the same with her own luggage. “Yes, since I was about twelve. He was fifteen at the time and our youngest butler. We became friends very quickly.”

Edelgard smiles faintly. “He told me in great detail how everyone sees you as their pride and joy. Almost to the point where I was embarrassed on your behalf.”

Lysithea covers her face with the blouse she holds in her hands, squeezing her eyes shut and letting out a soft whine. “Really…? Ugh, I can’t believe him!”

Edelgard laughs softly. “I only jest. It was endearing,” she says. “I think I learned more about you from that conversation, outside of the student and officer I knew before.”

“I’m going to ask Hubert to relay to me all of _ your _ embarrassing stories now too, you know,” Lysithea huffs.

“I wish you luck with that,” Edelgard says. “You will find that such a task will be difficult.”

“Oh, because you’re so perfect?” Lysithea scrunches her nose.

“Far from it,” Edelgard looks over at Lysithea with a playful eyebrow raised. “I made him take an oath of silence so that no one will know of the mortifying things I have done in my life.”

Lysithea stares at Edelgard, displeased. “...I’m going to have to make Osric swear the same.”

“Too late. I’m afraid the damage has already been done,” Edelgard cannot fight the smile that curves her lips.

Lysithea throws down the blouse she was folding on the bed. “I’m changing this conversation.”

She then produces the ring from where she tucked it away, stepping closer to Edelgard, her gaze fixated on the ring in her hand. “I got it.”

Edelgard lets out a confused hum, but she looks over to see how Lysithea’s holding the ring. “Ah, yes… That.”

Lysithea holds out her free hand, anticipating Edelgard to place hers atop it. She falters when she glances down and sees the gloves on Edelgard’s hands. “…I won’t request you to remove them. Perhaps you can wear it over the leather.”

“If I may…” Edelgard begins, rummaging through a particular part of her luggage, “I prepared a contingency plan.”

Edelgard unveils a small silver chain, as if it is supposed to have a jewel fastened to it and pose as a necklace. Though Lysithea soon realizes that's the whole point. 

“Wise,” Lysithea says. “And most certainly you.”

Edelgard nods her head and extends her hand, silently requesting the ring. Lysithea hands it over, and Edelgard strings it onto the chain. She holds out the two sides for Lysithea in another silent request.

Lysithea nods her head and takes the unclasped necklace into her hands. Drawing in a breath to steel herself, Lysithea watches as Edelgard turns her back to her and gathers her hair in her hand, revealing her neck, bare for Lysithea to clasp the necklace. That breath isn't enough to properly compose Lysithea, and she finds herself swallowing down her nervousness to lower the necklace down Edelgard’s front and then looping back to connect the two ends behind Edelgard’s neck. She fumbles ever so slightly, her fingers brushing with the skin of Edelgard’s neck, and she hears Edelgard inhale because of it. But Lysithea quickly recovers, stepping back once she's done and averting her gaze to the ground.

In that moment, she realizes how much she is going to have to train herself to grow accustomed to the shows of affection they'll have to display as part of their ruse. When she can barely clasp a necklace without succumbing to her nerves— while they're in private, no less— Lysithea knows she's in trouble.

Turning back to face Lysithea, Edelgard glances down at the ring resting in the center of her chest, her expression pensive. For the first time, words don't come to her very easily.

“I—” Edelgard begins, taking a long pause to gather her thoughts. “I hope you don't find me wearing this ring to be disrespectful to your family.”

Lysithea’s eyebrows raise from surprise at a comment like that. “I don't. This is to protect my family. It might not be its intended purpose, but it's a righteous one.”

“You're right,” Edelgard nods her head, keeping her gaze low. “Forgive me for my careless thought. I…was not expecting to be struck with this much unease when putting it on.”

The last thing Lysithea expects is for Edelgard to be so honest with her feelings, and while her shock flashes on her expression, she composes herself quickly and shakes her head to reassure her. “Don't worry about it. It's good to know I'm not the only one who feels sick to their stomach having to do this. But… I know we have to.”

“We do,” Edelgard says. “We will.”

Lysithea nods. “They'll be asking questions tonight at dinner. We should make sure we’re prepared for anything they could ask.”

“And we should coordinate how we will interact with one another,” Edelgard says.

Lysithea inhales sharply, feeling her body tense. She knows this is code for the amount and style of affection they should show, and that is one of the things that Lysithea fears the most about this plan, second only to having to lie to everyone around her. 

Fortunately, they both are pretty reserved, and do not give off the impression they would be overly and openly affectionate. They can get away with very little, so long as it looks real.

“…As long as it is not a kiss, I will be fine with anything,” Lysithea says, gulping.

“All forms, or just on the lips?” Edelgard asks. Lysithea almost hates how professional and distant the question is, as if the topic isn't about something as intimate as a—

Lysithea stops herself, calms herself.

“Just…Just on the lips, I won't do.”

Edelgard nods. “The need should barely arise for any affection of that sort, anyway. Still, it's good to discern this now.”

“Y…Yeah,” Lysithea clears her throat, glancing away briefly. “And what about you? I mean— is there anything you won't do?”

Edelgard holds Lysithea’s gaze, falling silent for a few moments. When she next speaks, she finally looks away, her voice quiet. “A kiss.”

Lysithea feels her mouth run dry, and she slowly nods her head. “Then we should have nothing to worry about.”

Edelgard lets out a hum in acknowledgment and turns away, focusing back on organizing her clothes. “Let us not worry about that for now. We still have time before we have to continue with the ruse.”

“…Yeah,” Lysithea says weakly, and she preoccupies herself with the same. 

She then realizes how much of a sanctuary her chambers are going to be— a place where the curtains can close on their act, if only temporarily. At least here, she doesn't need to live a lie. 

Lysithea lets out a breath and puts away the rest of her clothes in peace.

* * *

Lysithea stares at herself in the mirror, combing over her appearance. Her hair is pulled up into a tight, ornate swirl gathered at the back of her head, with her bangs and a few statement strands of hair framing her face. She feels her jaw clench at the sight of how her white hair stems from the root. At the Officers Academy and during the war, Lysithea could occasionally forget about how this was not her natural hair color, but now that she is around her family again— who bear the hair color she _ should _ have— it’s a constant reminder of its abnormality. Even to see her pink eyes in her reflection accosts her. Her parents and her aunt and her uncle all have the black hair Lysithea once had, and her mother and her aunt once shared her red eyes. At a glance, Lysithea does not even look like she should belong to the Ordelia family.

Sometimes even beyond that first glance Lysithea doesn’t even feel like she belongs.

“Is that what you will be wearing?” Edelgard asks, breaking Lysithea out of her thoughts.

Lysithea tears her gaze away from the mirror— almost relieved to be free from the sight of her own reflection— and she glances down at her dress. It’s a black, floor-length gown, sleeveless, with a halter neck. She furrows her brow, a little confused by Edelgard’s question. “...Yes?”

Edelgard tilts her head. “Is this your engagement banquet or a funeral?” she teases.

Lysithea’s expression falls into a deadpan. “Perhaps I’m mourning the false loss of my maidenhood.”

Edelgard shakes her head softly, though her expression is slightly exasperated. “We will never convince your family of this relationship if your attire is as inky and bleak as your mood.”

“Then what would you have me do to shed this ‘inky’ composure?” Lysithea asks, donning a pair of earrings. “Unfortunately, I haven’t done extensive dress shopping to accommodate my new height, and this is the only dress I have. Unless you wish for me to wear an outgrown dress from my childhood— hah, now wearing a dress of _ that _length in front of my parents would be a loss of maidenhood to mourn…”

“My, were you always this difficult during the war, or was I mistaking your stubbornness for something more admirable?” Edelgard pinches the bridge of her nose, letting out a ragged sigh.

That gets Lysithea to reconsider how she’s acting. “...Forgive me. I’m letting the stress get to me,” Lysithea exhales softly. “What do you want for me to do to seem less… somber?”

Edelgard calms as well, and she moves to one of the drawers in the room. “Something with a splash of color would do you well.” She pulls out a folded cloth, deep scarlet in color. Edelgard then unfolds it and wraps it around Lysithea’s shoulders, fashioning it into a shawl. When she finishes smoothing it out, she steps back to assess her work. “There. Now you look less of a weeping widow and instead a proper betrothed woman.”

Lysithea adjusts the shawl and glances at herself in the mirror. “I do?”

“Yes,” Edelgard smiles slightly. “Like a proper noble of the Adrestian Empire, as well.”

Lysithea poorly stifles a laugh, returning her gaze to Edelgard. She notes Edelgard’s own dress in that moment and how it covers every inch of skin below her neck— and while Lysithea’s own attire is black with a splash of red, Edelgard’s is red with a splash of black. She lets out an amused hum.

“We’re even matching,” Lysithea jabs. “We’re selling this disgusting lovey-dovey image even better than I thought.”

“Maybe so,” Edelgard says in return. She holds out her hand. “I believe we’re due in the dining hall.”

And then Lysithea becomes all too aware of reality again, and that playful demeanor of her fades. She nods her head solemnly, and she takes Edelgard’s hand and leads her out of their chambers.

Osric approaches the two once they leave, bowing his head and gesturing for them to follow him. He remains a few paces ahead of them, but he whispers something barely audible to them both.

“I have the information you requested from the Count, Your Majesty,” Osric says, not even looking over his shoulder. “I have a list that compiles the recent hires that the House recently made now that it has the budget to employ more staff. These new hires, the Count theorizes, are how the mages infiltrated the House again. I cannot tell you who is or who is not compromised.”

Lysithea glances to Edelgard. “You were discussing business with him earlier?”

“Of course,” Edelgard says. “And you have my gratitude, Osric. Uncovering those who slither in the dark from the real members of this House will fall to us.”

“Trust no one,” Osric says. “No one but the noble family themselves.”

“Does it run that deep…?” Lysithea asks.

“According to your father, yes,” Osric says. “He was threatened by some of the mages upon their arrival, which is how he knew to send me to retrieve you.”

Lysithea narrows her eyes in a rush of anger, though she’s calmed by Edelgard’s hand squeezing her— but instead of being a comforting gesture, it veers toward the territory of telling Lysithea to cut it out.

“Oh, so now they do not even attempt at subtlety and instead announce their presence?” Edelgard sneers. “They’ve grown bolder since they sent Tomas to the monastery all those years ago. How deplorable.”

“Maybe this will simplify our task,” Lysithea says, her voice a barely-contained growl.

“We can only hope,” Edelgard says.

“Quickly— compose yourselves. We have arrived,” Osric whispers, and he grabs the handles to the doors and pulls them open. Behind the doors, a long table filled with various dishes— all so freshly made that steam rises off of them— ready to be enjoyed. 

Voltemand notices the arrival of Lysithea and Edelgard, and he spreads his arms to welcome their presence. “Our most honored guests have arrived! Please, come! There are many congratulations to be shared!”

Edelgard plasters on a smile fit for the occasion, though she tilts her head slightly towards Lysithea to whisper to her. “Your father knows of the ruse, does he not? He is quite the actor.”

Lysithea nods her head, the wide, staged smile on her lips betraying her words. “He’s only doing what must be done.”

And the conversation ends there. When Lysithea and Edelgard approach Voltemand, they notice Rosalind standing beside him, as well as another woman of Rosalind’s likeness and another man. 

“Please, allow me a moment to properly introduce my family. I fear I was so caught up in my excitement earlier today that I forgot this most crucial etiquette!” Voltemand says, and he covers his breast with a hand and bows his head. “I am Count Voltemand of the Ordelia estate. This is my wife the Countess, Rosalind.”

Rosalind flashes a small smile and nods her head politely, but otherwise she does not speak. 

Edelgard returns the gesture. “I am most pleased to finally meet you both, both professionally and because of your daughter.”

Rosalind nods again, though a certain glimmer of emotion appears in her eyes before she glances to the ground and steps closer to her husband.

Before Voltemand can even begin the introduction of the other two, the other woman rushes to Lysithea and envelops her into a tight hug. “Oh, Lysithea, my darling! It has been much too long!”

Lysithea stumbles back a little, but she cannot help but smile at the embrace. “You’re— ah, crushing me…!”

The woman quickly pulls back and readjusts Lysithea’s outfit, incredibly doting. “You have grown so much! Why, you even brought home just the most lovely lady! I could not be prouder of my little niece…” In that moment, she lets out a gasp, suddenly remembering something and turning to Edelgard. “Ah! I am Celia, the younger sister to the Countess, and Lysithea’s favorite aunt!”

“Only aunt,” Lysithea corrects.

“See! Favorite aunt!” Celia beams.

Edelgard lets out a soft laugh and nods her head. “I can see why. Charmed to meet you.”

The man next to Celia bows to Edelgard, respectful and curt. “I am Oliver, Lysithea’s uncle.”

“A man of few words, he is,” Celia says. “His silence is by no means disrespect, Your Majesty.”

“I see no issue with it,” Edelgard dismisses the thought. “It’s nice to meet you as well.”

“Now that we are all acquainted as family, we shan’t stall the festivities any longer,” Voltemand says. “Let us feast in honor of our dear Lysithea’s engagement to the Emperor of Fódlan!”

A cheer of celebration rings throughout the hall, and Lysithea and Edelgard turn to face each other amidst it all. Smiles rest upon their lips, yet when their eyes meet, the emotions that their expressions hide can be shared between the two of them. A mix of remorse, apologies, reluctance, and conviction exist in juxtaposition in their gazes, and in that moment, they’re allowed that one last chance to show it before they must emerge themselves fully in the play they must stage.

And as soon as that instance occurs, it ends, as everyone is pulled away for the feast. At first, the night begins with Lysithea’s family relaying stories of what’s passed during the five years of her absence. It allows Edelgard and Lysithea a chance to breathe, free from an obligation to talk about themselves. It also provides them with an opportunity to enjoy the swath of food laid out in front of them. Lysithea realizes she doesn’t have much of an appetite for anything.

Because Lysithea’s family knows her so well, the main course of the dinner is short— truthfully more akin to an appetizer— and the bulk of the feast is devoted to the various desserts prepared for the occasion. The conversations about House Ordelia’s affairs during the past five years fill the dinner portion of the feast, but when the rounds of dessert make their way around the table, everyone’s curiosity gets the better of them.

Lysithea finds her appetite return when presented with desserts, and she happily helps herself to strawberry shortcake when it comes around. She almost forgets she’s at a formal dinner until her father speaks up.

“You must forgive me, my dear Lysithea, but I cannot stave off my curiosity much longer,” Voltemand says. “What was it that brought you two together?”

Lysithea looks up from her shortcake with wide eyes, her mouth stuffed to the brim. She glances to Edelgard, and she’s met with one of the widest smiles she’s ever seen on Edelgard’s expression.

“Ah, perhaps I should tell the story, my sweet,” Edelgard says fondly, and even her eyes shine with that same affection.

Lysithea finds herself biting down a lot harder than she intends to from surprise to hear that name from Edelgard’s lips— and with that smile no less. She never expected Edelgard’s charade to be so… enthused— and so _ convincing_. She forces herself to nod in that moment; she won’t ruin their disguise by being so surprised by its persuasion.

Edelgard looks away and lets out a gentle laugh, adjusting the napkin in her lap idly. “I suppose from my side it began during the war. Admittedly, I was struggling with the loss of a trusted mentor of mine for a long while, since nearly the outbreak of the war— but, your daughter stepped in to fill that hole in my heart that was left behind. She became an important figure in my life, and at first I never realized the true nature of what I felt, only that she became an invaluable and cherished person to me. It was only when the war ended that I understood, and I started to worry that the end of the war would mean she would leave my side when I needed her with me the most. On a whim, I asked for her to marry me,” Edelgard turns back to Lysithea again, reaching out to set her hand over Lysithea’s upon the table. “It was to my greatest and most ecstatic surprise that she said yes.”

Lysithea feels her heartbeat quicken in her chest to hear Edelgard’s words, and she’s left breathless by the end of it, to have Edelgard’s hand over hers and to see that adoring look. She uses all of her willpower to smile back without skipping a beat, and her cheeks become adorned with a blush. “I never dreamed of a day when you would return my feelings,” she says gently. “You weren’t the only one overwhelmed by that feeling of ecstasy.”

“Young love…” Celia lets out a dreamy sigh. “It’s always so heartwarming…”

“It brings me great joy to know my daughter is so happy, and that she is cherished so deeply in return,” Voltemand says. “I have you to thank for a great deal, Lady Edelgard.”

“Such thanks are unnecessary,” Edelgard responds, yet her gaze doesn’t leave Lysithea, “There’s too much to admire about Lysithea to not be captivated by her.”

A flustered laugh bubbles in Lysithea’s chest and she has to glance away, covering her mouth with her free hand. “Always the charmer, are you?”

“Charm? No, it’s but the truth,” Edelgard says earnestly. “Your devotion to all that you love and wish to protect knows no bounds, your charisma is more addicting than the most serene melody, your wit is unmatched— and yet all of those are still secondary to your beauty—”

Lysithea interrupts Edelgard with another sheepish giggle, feeling her cheeks begin to ache from how much she’s smiling. “Oh, stop it!” she teases. “You sing such endless praises of me— if you don’t stop soon, I fear no one else will be able to get a word in for the rest of the meal!”

Edelgard finally gives in and relents, and Lysithea can feel a rush of relief wash over her, cooling off the blush in her cheeks. Lysithea glances to the rest of her family, seeing Voltemand and Celia thoroughly amused, Oliver fondly exasperated, and—

Rosalind’s gaze remains trained on Edelgard, a sorrowful frown pulling at her lips. Lysithea freezes at the sight, and soon Rosalind glances at her, and their eyes meet. Rosalind doesn’t mask her expression, but she does cast her gaze away and lowers her head, unable to hold Lysithea’s gaze.

Lysithea blinks, her lips parting from surprise and a dull ache that throbs in her chest. She tries to understand why her mother wears her sadness so openly, and why that sadness exists in the first place, but no answer is to be found in Lysithea’s mind. Instead, Lysithea can only feel her heart split in two, lamenting the misery her mother feels to see her with Edelgard. That pain only worsens when Lysithea realizes that she’s hurting her mother with a lie, disappointing her with some reason that she cannot even fathom. It hurts and confuses her beyond explanation, and the resounding question that rings in Lysithea’s mind is _ why? _

A gentle squeeze from Edelgard’s hand returns Lysithea back to reality, and Lysithea turns to face her. Edelgard gestures with her head to the rest of the table, which has divulged into another bout of conversation. Lysithea flashes an apologetic smile and reattunes herself into the conversation, and she runs her thumb along the side of Edelgard’s hand.

But every so often throughout the rest of the feast, Lysithea looks to her mother, still finding her to be withdrawn into some shell of misery that Lysithea cannot understand.

* * *

Once the dinner and the celebrations end for the night, Lysithea and Edelgard retreat back to their chambers, relieved for a respite from the long evening of pretend. Lysithea finds herself in front of the mirror, slowly unraveling her hair from its bun and removing her earrings. Yet she loses herself to her thoughts in doing so, her gaze in the mirror turning blank.

Edelgard breaks the silence as she removes her own accessories. “Even with the festivities, I couldn’t shake that feeling of vacancy throughout the estate the whole time.”

Lysithea pauses how she brushes her hair once it’s down, and her grip tightens around the brush. “This manor’s felt empty for nearly twenty years now.”

Edelgard pauses too, clenching her jaw when considering the timeline. “That was a careless thing of me to say.”

“I expected you to say it from the second we decided to come here,” Lysithea says, forcing her voice to be level. “It’s not painful anymore. It’s just reality now.”

“A reality that should have never come to pass,” Edelgard says.

“We cannot fix the past,” Lysithea counters.

“Apologies,” Edelgard says with a soft sigh. “My mind isn’t as orderly as it should be right now. I’m rather drained.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Lysithea sighs too, but hers is more burdened. “You and me both.”

“Can I ask something?” Edelgard says. Lysithea only acknowledges her with a hum, so Edelgard continues. “Were your reactions genuine to everything that I said during the dinner?”

Lysithea’s gaze frets over to Edelgard before looking away immediately. “...What do you mean?”

“Was your fluster an act, or authentic?” Edelgard asks.

“Why does it matter?” Lysithea counters. “Everyone bought it.”

“They did,” Edelgard says. “I only ask because I said those things specifically to earn a genuine reaction.”

Lysithea’s dismissive facade breaks at that, and she feels her face grow warmer from fluster. “W…Why?”

“Because I noticed how embarrassed you are to receive incessant praise earlier today,” Edelgard explains. “I figured if I did the same during the feast, I would get a realistic response, and we could be more persuasive.”

Lysithea puffs out her cheeks in a huff. “I’m a good actor.”

“You are,” Edelgard says. “But good lies are always rooted in the truth. If we are as close to the truth as possible when we lie, then we are more convincing.”

Lysithea lowers her head in defeat and lets out a soft breath. She cannot be irritated for long— Edelgard is clever and impressively good at improvisation, so this is all to be expected. Yet she still cannot believe how good of an actress Edelgard was, and how Lysithea could almost for a moment envision that Edelgard’s infatuation with her was real.

“Then it was authentic,” Lysithea admits, but she won’t allow Edelgard to relish in the admission for long. “Can you unlace my dress?” she asks, needing the distraction.

Edelgard doesn’t respond, but Lysithea can see her approaching in the reflection of the mirror. Lysithea casts her gaze to the floor and waits as she can feel Edelgard undo her corset, and suddenly Lysithea draws in a large breath to finally feel her lungs unrestricted again. She breathes out a ‘thank you’ once Edelgard’s finished, too enamored with the newfound ability to breathe again not to lace her words with a deep exhale. Lysithea then changes into a nightgown, and then she sits down on the edge of the bed, running her hands through her hair.

Edelgard soon dons a nightgown as well, and she sits upon the opposite side of the bed. “Tomorrow, we need to begin our investigation fully. We’ll first run through the names from the Count’s list, and then we can comb through everyone else.”

Lysithea nods her head, though just the discussion of work exhausts her after the long, stressful day they’ve had. She snuffs out the fire of the candles with a snap of her fingers, and she lays down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. “I’ll begin to go through our records from eighteen years ago, when they first arrived. Perhaps there are trails that still haven’t run cold.”

“Clever thinking,” Edelgard says. She lays down as well, situating herself underneath the blankets.

Yet Lysithea doesn’t move, instead still fixated on that spot on the ceiling.

“Lysithea,” Edelgard says, her voice firm enough to shake Lysithea from her thoughts, but gentle enough as to not startle her.

“Hm…?”

“We can manage this swiftly and efficiently,” Edelgard says soothingly. “You won’t have to maintain this ruse for long.”

Lysithea furrows her brow and glances toward Edelgard. “How did you…?”

Edelgard turns on her side to face Lysithea, a hint of a frown on her expression. “When you’re in this room with me, it’s not hard to feel your anguish, especially whenever you’re reminded of the roles we have to play.”

Lysithea averts her gaze, a remorseful look upon her face. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You don’t let it show out of this room. You…need to look after yourself, after all. You need this break,” Edelgard says, her words faltering for a moment.

Finding her courage again, Lysithea meets Edelgard’s eye, feeling the concern emanating from them the second they lock gazes. She studies Edelgard’s expression with a gentle look, searching for any similar trace of reluctance or remorse. “Why is this not affecting you too, Edelgard?”

Edelgard shrugs sadly. “It’s not my blood I’m lying to.”

Lysithea feels her mouth run dry, and she painfully swallows down the sick sensation in her throat. She lets out a shaky sigh, and that spurs Edelgard to grab the blankets and lift them, urging Lysithea underneath.

“You need rest,” Edelgard says. “Come.”

Lysithea settles under the covers and gets herself comfortable, and she can’t help but notice a wave of heat course through her as she does so. Edelgard’s eyes don’t leave her, making sure that Lysithea is actually moving to get ready to bed, and Lysithea’s body responds in kind to the watchful gaze. Lysithea shakes that hot sensation out of her mind and turns onto her side, facing away from Edelgard, and soon Lysithea feels the bed rustle as Edelgard turns away too.

“Sleep well,” Edelgard tells her.

“You too.”

Lysithea doesn’t try to sleep after that. She keeps her gaze focused ahead of her, and soon her vision grows accustomed to the darkness. She can’t stop her mind from racing in the dark silence, replaying each event of that day over and over, forcing her to relive the lies she’s told.

And those same memories cause Lysithea to relive the same fluster whenever she thinks back to the dinner. Edelgard’s convincing display thoroughly caught Lysithea off-guard, and she can’t ignore how much of an effect it had on her. She has to promise to herself to familiarize herself with Edelgard’s devotion to their role, and she has to swear to show a similar conviction. The charade relies equal part on Edelgard and Lysithea to provide the most realistic performance as possible, and Lysithea knows she cannot dismiss her own obligation to the ruse. She feels another wave of heat rush through her at the memories the more she thinks about them, and Lysithea has to turn and peek over her shoulder at how strong that particular wave was, figuring Edelgard must be staring at her again. But Lysithea sees how Edelgard has her back to her, and Lysithea quickly turns away.

Feeling the day’s exhaustion pull at her eyes, Lysithea pushes those thoughts out of her mind and hopes that sleep visits her soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a moment, Oliver pauses to sort through his words, and when he speaks, he does so carefully. “There is not a single moment in my memory where you have been this happy,” he says, lowering his gaze with a hint of a proud grin. “Your presence was sorely missed over the years, but if those five years of your absence resulted in you learning how to be happy, then it was well worth it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **content warnings: blood, violence, death (murder)**, past the second line break and carries past the third.

Lysithea wakes up in an empty bed.

Nothing about it seems off at first— no, this is how it _ should _be— but then the change in scenery, to be back in her old chambers at her estate, registers in her mind, and she remembers how she's supposed to be with Edelgard.

Lysithea wonders if Edelgard had trouble sleeping, or if she's simply just so much of an early riser that she's already begun to investigate the list that was provided to them. She ultimately decides in her mind it's probably a mix of both.

Lysithea sits up and swings her legs over the bed, staying there, gripping the edge of the mattress tightly. She stares at the floor for a moment, readjusting herself to being awake, and she figures she should start being productive as well.

Her stomach rumbles. She can start being productive once she's gotten her sugar fill.

She stands and ties her hair up, neglecting to brush it in favor of hiding it in a bun. Satisfied with that, Lysithea leaves to make her way to the kitchens. The manor is almost a ghost town, so she doesn't have to fret over her appearance too much. The only people at risk of seeing her is her family.

When she reaches the pantries, she's stopped from taking something for herself by a voice calling her name— loudly.

“Lysithea! You have got some explaining to do!”

She instantly recognizes the voice as her aunt’s. She spins on her heel to face her. Lysithea’s too tired to put up a fight, but the thought crosses irritatingly in her mind: _ did they really get caught on day one? _ “Yes, Aunt Celia?”

Celia turns to the kitchen which she just stepped out of. “Edelgard!”

Lysithea watches as Edelgard steps out of the kitchen, her gaze low. She wears an apron over a white blouse and crimson, velvety pants. Lysithea raises an eyebrow at why Edelgard would be in a kitchen…

“Have you really agreed to marry a woman that doesn’t know a thing about cooking?!” Celia asks angrily. “She is a _ disaster_!”

Edelgard frowns at Celia, but she looks as if she’s been whipped into line by Celia already, given Edelgard’s uncharacteristic quiet. 

Lysithea just looks at Celia in a deadpan. “The manor hasn’t been burned down. She can’t be _ that _ bad.”

“She tried to cut potatoes with a _ knife_!” Celia yells.

Lysithea furrows her brow in annoyance. “Isn’t that how they’re supposed to be cut?” 

Celia tilts her head in a challenge, brandishing the knife that Edelgard used: an ornate dagger. “You tell me!”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Lysithea shoots Edelgard a glare. “Really? A dagger?”

“The grips on the kitchen knives were most unpleasant and foreign for my use. I merely used a knife I was more comfortable with!” Edelgard defends herself, throwing her arms out to the side.

Lysithea wants to admonish Edelgard even more for her cluelessness, but she remembers the part she has to play. Instead, she steps forward and plucks the dagger from Celia’s careless grasp, expertly flipping it in her fingers and tucking it up the sleeve of her gown as she approaches Edelgard, pulling her in for a hug. “Oh, what am I going to do with you…?”

Edelgard seems to be caught off-guard by Lysithea’s shift in demeanor, but she forces herself to relax within Lysithea’s arms and return the embrace. “Good morning, my sweet.”

“Good morning,” Lysithea says softly, a yawn threatening to burst out. “How did you sleep?”

“Well,” Edelgard pulls back slightly, her hands still resting on Lysithea’s arms. “I had hoped you would sleep for just a little while longer. I would have loved to surprise you with breakfast.”

“Aww, your little dagger breakfast?” Lysithea teases with a laugh, producing the dagger from her sleeve and holding it between their faces. “I hope you cleaned this before you used it to make me a meal.”

Edelgard snags the dagger from Lysithea’s hand, pouting her lips for a brief moment. “You should know I place the utmost importance in weapon upkeep…” 

Before Lysithea can tease her further, Celia interrupts by clearing her throat. “I’m leaving the rest of breakfast preparation to you, Lysithea. I’m feeling a little unwell at the moment.”

Lysithea frowns out of sympathy. “Feel better soon, Aunt Celia. I’ll make sure Edelgard doesn’t burn everything down for you.”

Edelgard lets out a quiet noise of protest, but she forces herself to be silent again. Celia just smiles gratefully. “Thank you, dear. I’m trusting you with this.”

Once Celia leaves, Edelgard turns away from Lysithea and walks towards the kitchen. “You’re incorrigible.”

Lysithea snorts at that. “I can’t believe she let you anywhere near the kitchen. Actually— I can’t believe _ you _stepped into the kitchen!”

“It wasn’t my intention,” Edelgard sighs. “I was beginning investigation work, but she found me around the manor. I had to construct a lie that I wished to prepare you breakfast, but I couldn’t find the kitchens and had wandered quite too far.”

“Well, at least it was quick thinking…” Lysithea says. 

The two of them resume working— or, at least, Lysithea resumes where Edelgard left off— and because they’re in a place where they can be easily seen, they still stand fairly close to one another. Lysithea picks up with cutting the potatoes to fry for breakfast, and Edelgard stands right next to her, leaning her back against the counter. She observes Lysithea’s work, pursing her lips in thought.

“My form wasn’t too different than yours when I did it,” Edelgard says with a huff.

“Is that so?” Lysithea glances up at her for a moment with a smile.

“Yes, that was _ exactly _ what I was doing. I just needed to use a different knife because that one was inefficient!” Edelgard protests.

Lysithea holds the knife between them both, smiling playfully as the tip of the blade lingers close to Edelgard’s chin. “You’d be surprised by the efficiency of this blade if you devoted yourself to learning.”

Edelgard quirks an eyebrow, amused. “Is that a threat?”

“An invitation, rather,” Lysithea says, setting the knife down and stepping back, gesturing Edelgard to take her place. “I’ll teach you.”

Edelgard looks confused for a moment, but she nods her head and takes Lysithea’s position. She grabs the knife, and she lets out a quiet noise of surprise when Lysithea sets her hand over hers and stabilizes her grip. Lysithea rests her chin on Edelgard’s shoulder as she guides her, pressed close to her.

“It shouldn’t be _ that _ different from a dagger,” Lysithea says, letting Edelgard practice. 

Edelgard glances at Lysithea out of the corner of her eye and clears her throat, directing her focus back to cutting the potatoes after a moment’s delay. “Is this better?”

Lysithea hums. “For sure, but—” she prods at Edelgard’s index finger with her own, guiding it to rest on top of the blade and fixing it in place there. “Stop trying to hack them in half. Cutting things with kitchen knives doesn’t require all that brute strength with your wrist. You can relax. You just need precision, like this.”

Lysithea moves Edelgard’s hands for her, resulting in cleaner, uniform cubes of potatoes. Once she demonstrates it a few times, Lysithea gives control back to Edelgard. “You try.”

Edelgard nods her head, and she moves to continue cutting, but she stops when she realizes Lysithea’s hands still rest over hers. “Are you going to—”

Without Edelgard needing to continue, Lysithea removes her hands from Edelgard’s. But she doesn’t back away, and as if she’s moving just on instinct, instead Lysithea wraps her arms around Edelgard’s waist and leans deeper into her shoulder as she watches. A smile forms on Lysithea’s face as she watches Edelgard’s work become cleaner. “Yeah, that’s it!”

Edelgard hums to that. “I suppose it wasn’t that hard to learn.”

“No more daggers in my kitchen from now, okay?” Lysithea says teasingly, nudging Edelgard.

Edelgard sways at Lysithea’s playful shove, shaking her head with a fond exasperation. “Enough…”

The doors to the kitchen open in that moment, and Lysithea has to fight the immediate urge to jump back from Edelgard, knowing that it’s more convincing if they’re caught in the position they’re in. She feels Edelgard tense in her arms, and Lysithea looks to the doors to see who’s walked in.

Lysithea locks eyes with Rosalind for a brief moment, but Rosalind quickly averts her gaze to the ground to see the two of them together. Lysithea frowns and backs away from Edelgard, keeping her gaze on Rosalind. “Did you need something, Mother?”

“I’m working with the bakers in the other kitchen, and they needed another bag of flour,” Rosalind says quickly—quietly. “Do not pay me any mind, dear..”

“No, come on,” Lysithea says, stepping closer. “Let me help.”

“That’s not necessary,” Rosalind shakes her head, picking up the bag of flour. She struggles with its weight, but she forces herself to power through it.

“Mother—” Lysithea steps in front of her. “Please, let me.”

“You wouldn’t be able to fare any better than her, Lysithea,” Edelgard says, approaching Rosalind carefully. “May I?”

“I wouldn’t wish to burden you,” Rosalind says, avoiding Edelgard’s gaze.

“It isn’t a burden in the slightest,” Edelgard says gently. “I’m stronger than I appear at first glance.”

Rosalind’s gaze flashes to Lysithea’s for a moment, and she sees Lysithea nod her head. Almost reluctantly, Rosalind sets the bag of flour to the ground, and Edelgard picks it up and tucks it under her arm with ease, as if it’s a mere book. “Follow me then.”

Lysithea looks to Edelgard, and they share a glance before Edelgard leaves to follow Rosalind. Lysithea busies herself with finishing the potatoes and getting them onto the stove while Edelgard is gone, and once she’s back, they wrap up making breakfast quickly.

“I’ll join you in a second,” Lysithea says, preparing a plate and setting it on a tray. “I’m going to give this to Aunt Celia and make sure she’s okay.”

“Let her know I hope she feels better soon,” Edelgard says. “I will make you a plate and bring it to the dining tables for your return.”

“Thank you,” Lysithea smiles slightly, and she pushes the door open with her back, leaving the kitchen.

Lysithea visits Celia and Oliver’s quarters and delivers the tray. Celia’s recovered from that wave of sickness, and the breakfast in bed comes as a pleasant surprise for her. Lysithea is almost wrapped into spending breakfast with her aunt, but she tells her that Edelgard is waiting for her for their own breakfast, and Celia hurriedly shoos her off with a knowing smile. Lysithea does her best to not let her surprise show until she’s out of Celia’s quarters, but she can’t help it— she’s never been able to worm her way out of Celia’s clutches before when Celia’s hellbent on spending time with her… Maybe Lysithea should have considered getting a fiancée earlier if this is the side effect.

Lysithea makes her way back to the dining hall, losing herself to her thoughts as she walks through the halls. She doesn’t notice how a servant walks in the opposite direction until they collide, with the servant pushing past Lysithea’s side. Lysithea furrows her brow and looks over her shoulder as she keeps walking, looking at the servant who barrelled into her like that without a single care, apparently. It’s suspicious, and she makes a note in her mind to investigate the servants later.

* * *

Lysithea combs through the old employment records in the library, resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. The library is dim, only illuminated by the few candles Lysithea has on the table with her. The low light starts to make her eyes strain to read, and every few moments Lysithea has to close her eyes and rub at her temples at an oncoming headache. But she pushes herself through it. She doesn’t have the time to slow herself down over something as trivial as lighting.

But she’s due to be distracted from her work anyway, considering how she notices Edelgard approaching her.

“Keep your guard up,” Lysithea warns her quietly. “People come in and out of here like crazy.”

Edelgard nods her head, and she steps closer than she otherwise would have. She sets her hands on the table and leans over it, putting her face a little above Lysithea’s eye level, and definitely well in Lysithea’s space. “Have you turned up anything yet?”

“I’ve been cross-checking the employment lists from before and after those mages left. I’ve made my own list of the names that don’t reappear between those two years, and I’m going to run that list against our most current one to see if I can find any patterns among the names,” Lysithea says. “They are without a doubt using aliases to disguise themselves among us. I’m trying to see if there’s any rhyme or reason behind the names they choose.”

Edelgard looks over the pieces of parchment in front of Lysithea before glancing at her from the corner of her eye. “Clever thinking,” Edelgard says, allowing herself a pleased smile. “The you of today always outwits the you of yesterday, and if I wasn’t sure of that much before, I am now.”

Lysithea stifles a sarcastic laugh, looking at Edelgard with a playful eyebrow raised. “Oh, cut that out. You praise me for the littlest things sometimes.”

“I think you’ve just lost perspective of the value in the things you do,” Edelgard says, tilting her head. Her gaze slowly appraises Lysithea’s features, something of which Lysithea is all too aware of. Lysithea gulps under Edelgard’s gentle eyes, and she can feel her heart pound in her chest— a feeling that only grows more intense when Edelgard’s hand lifts up to rest delicately on Lysithea’s cheek. 

Lysithea’s eyebrows furrow together from confusion, and her lips slowly part. She tries to keep Edelgard’s gaze, searching for answers as to why she’s acting this way, but Lysithea has a lapse in willpower and her eyes drop to Edelgard’s lips before immediately rising again. “Edelgard…”

“Shh,” Edelgard says softly, and the warmth in Lysithea’s cheeks truly comes alight. She watches Edelgard close her eyes and lean closer, and despite that gaping pit of nerves that bursts in Lysithea’s chest, Lysithea is overpowered by her instincts, and she finds herself slowly closing her eyes and rising towards Edelgard’s lips.

“Forgive me for the intrusion—”

Lysithea pushes Edelgard away before their lips touch, and she keeps her hands firmly on Edelgard’s arms to hold her away from her. She looks over at the new voice, finding Oliver standing there, politely pretending to have not noticed what just happened. This vast library, and Lysithea didn’t even hear her uncle approach them. She looks at Edelgard, who subtly quirks a brow at her— and in that shared glance, Lysithea knows that Edelgard was one step ahead of her this whole time, knowing of Oliver’s presence and setting them up in such a position just to be caught, without any real intention of letting it actually happen.

Right… because why _ would _it actually happen?

Lysithea clears her throat and forces her gaze back on the parchment paper in front of her, unable to look her uncle or Edelgard in the eye after that. “Yes, Uncle Oli…?”

“Your father requested me to deliver this paperwork,” Oliver says, placing the stack on the table near Lysithea’s other work. “It details the legal proceedings involved in a royal marriage.”

“Right…” Lysithea says weakly, and she clears her throat again to compose herself. “Thank you.”

“I see you are already busy with work of your own, so please only worry about it at your earliest convenience,” Oliver says. “May I ask what you are working on?”

Lysithea’s silent for a beat of pause, carefully mulling over a cover story on the spot, but Edelgard beats her to the punch.

“It’s a guest list for a special occasion we hope to hold before the wedding,” Edelgard says, and Lysithea finds herself smiling darkly at the euphemism. 

Oliver nods in acknowledgement, and he surprisingly doesn’t ask any further questions. Apparently his curiosity of the day has already been sated. “I will leave you to it. I apologize again for the intrusion.”

“It’s fine,” Lysithea says, barely keeping her voice level from fluster.

With that, Oliver turns to make his leave, but he stops before he can get very far, and he turns back to Lysithea and Edelgard. “Lysithea…”

“Yes, Uncle Oli?” Lysithea asks.

For a moment, Oliver pauses to sort through his words, and when he speaks, he does so carefully. “There is not a single moment in my memory where you have been this happy,” he says, lowering his gaze with a hint of a proud grin. “Your presence was sorely missed over the years, but if those five years of your absence resulted in you learning how to be happy, then it was well worth it.”

Lysithea blinks from surprise, and she grows to smile back. Something keeps her from saying anything back though, and Oliver takes his leave after imparting those words.

Once it’s just them again, Edelgard turns to Lysithea and grins, pleased. “Looks like you're holding up your end of the charade well. You're a good actor.”

Lysithea focuses her attention back to Edelgard and immediately lets out an angered groan, shoving Edelgard away. “What is with you?! That's one hell of a stunt to dare to pull on me!”

Edelgard steps back after Lysithea’s little outburst, making no effort to move closer again. “You didn't notice his entrance. I saw an opportunity to demonstrate our relationship.”

Lysithea sneers at that. “It wouldn't kill you to have me in the loop for these kinds of things, you know! You said it yourself: I'm a good actor. I can fake my way through it well enough where I _ don’t _ need you trying to surprise me for a convincing reaction.”

“I see your point,” Edelgard concedes without any fuss.

Lysithea exhales angrily, sparing Edelgard one last glare from the corner of her eye. “Sheesh… I don't care about your whole idea of rooting a lie in a sliver of truth. I can lie just fine, and you need to learn to trust that I can. Otherwise, we’re going to fail. So, can you do that much?”

Edelgard clenches her jaw, and Lysithea doesn't tear her gaze away. She can see that asking Edelgard’s trust is troubling her, but she refuses to waver.

“I can,” Edelgard eventually admits. “No more surprises.”

Lysithea lets out a sigh to release her anger, knowing better than to remain upset now that things seem to be settled and in the past. Instead, she focuses on the new stack of papers in front of her with a groan of dread. “Do I have to fill these out? We’re not getting married. It's fine if I just ignore them until the jig is up, right?”

“I'm afraid it's best if you at least _ try _to get some of it done,” Edelgard says. “But you heard your uncle. It doesn't have to be done this instant.”

Lysithea huffs and leans back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Yeah, but you know me. If I have to do something, I get it done immediately. I can’t push it off.”

“Your work ethic truly is without parallel,” Edelgard says. “But do try and take it easy. Our focus is on eliminating those who slither in the dark while we’re here, anyway. That should take priority.”

“You're right,” Lysithea admits, partially reluctant. “I’m going to stay here for a while. There's still a lot I need to do.”

“And I as well,” Edelgard says, and she moves away from the table. She only gets so far before she stops, and she glances over her shoulder. “Lysithea.”

Lysithea glances up from her papers to look at Edelgard. “What?”

“I meant it when I said I thought you lost perspective of just how important your work is,” Edelgard says. “You might be too used to creating these incredible plans on the spot to the point where it doesn't seem like a big deal to you anymore, but it is. It always will be,” her expression turns more solemn, yet her words are gentle. “Don't lose sight of that.”

Lysithea watches Edelgard with a furrowed brow, though her expression softens the more Edelgard speaks. Eventually she comes to nod, averting her gaze. “I’ll try not to.”

Edelgard flashes a smile. “Good girl.”

Lysithea stifles a choked cough, her eyes shooting wide from surprise before narrowing into a glare. “Hey! What did I _ just _tell you about trying to surprise me?!”

“What, that?” Edelgard asks innocuously. “I've been saying that since before arriving here. I'm only speaking as myself now, not your fiancée.”

Lysithea harrumphs to herself, none too pleased by Edelgard’s words, yet finding no fault in her reasoning. Another brilliant loophole to exploit, much like how Edelgard got away with a kiss because it never actually happened. “…You survive narrowly. For now.”

“I’ll be sure not to take your mercy for granted,” Edelgard says playfully, and she offers a final wave in parting.

Lysithea, left to her own devices at last, leans way back in her chair and slumps down, groaning loudly and slapping her hands over her face. So many conflicting emotions bubble inside of her, and now that she's alone, she can finally assess them.

But she hates what she sees.

What on earth _ happened _ back there? She cannot grasp the fact she actually sought out Edelgard’s lips for a kiss willingly, without any hesitation pulling her back, and it wasn't even a conscious decision. Was she overwhelmed by Edelgard’s deceptive charm that badly that her rational thought left her and she was pulled in that strongly? But… Edelgard's goal wouldn't have been to goad a kiss out of her, only to set them up closely enough to be caught halfway. There's no way Lysithea’s actions were the intended result, which only infuriates Lysithea further.

Lysithea brings her chair closer to the table and forces those thoughts from her mind. She sets her chin in her hand and glances down at the new papers on her desk from Oliver. That reminds her of the words he said to her…

She seems…_happier _ now? That perplexes her. She doesn't feel happy— hasn't felt genuinely happy for her whole life. Too much pain mars each day for her to experience happiness beyond moments all too quickly fleeting. Lysithea isn't exactly trying to put on a show of bliss and joy, even with the charade she must play. Is there something about how she's acting that gives off the impression that she's happier now?

Lysithea sighs and shakes her head. It doesn't matter. There are more important things that demand her focus now.

* * *

Lysithea makes her way through the halls once she calls it a night, feeling sleep pull at her eyes. As much as she hates how sleeping ruins her productivity, she knows that going through her days back at House Ordelia sleepless and exhausted will draw suspicion, so it’s for the best she gets her rest, even if it’s the last thing she wants to do.

Once she steps into the wide clearing of the central hall, Lysithea feels a hand seize her shoulder and pull her back, and she shivers at the sudden sensation of cold metal against her throat. A sense of alarm runs through her, but she doesn’t waver in the face of it; instead, Lysithea just bares her teeth and growls.

“You were never supposed to be here!” someone grunts into her ear, and the metal presses harder against her skin. “Everything hinged on you _ staying _ in Enbarr!”

“What, do you want me to say sorry?” Lysithea sneers.

“I want you _ gone_,” the man says, his voice dripping with venom. “You brought home that damned Emperor with you too… It’s like you _ want _ to ruin our plans!”

“Fine, if I’m so much of a nuisance, then kill me,” Lysithea spits out. “I don’t even know what I’ve done to wrong you!”

“You came here!” the man yells. “Just you being here threw a wrench in our plans!”

“What plans?!” Lysithea shoots back. “You’re going to kill me anyway— tell me how I’m ruining them!”

Lysithea feels the blade waver against her throat, and she furrows her brow in thought. Even in this position, Lysithea knows she has the upper hand, and she’s going to use her position to goad as many answers out of him as she can. But the way his hand falters, and the pressure against her neck fades, Lysithea’s anger subsides into annoyance.

“You don’t even know your own motives,” Lysithea says in a demeaning tone. “How pathetic…”

The pressure of the blade returns, and Lysithea just raises an eyebrow at the reaction. “We were told to infiltrate and gain control over the Ordelia territory at all costs. Our mission is to make sure it doesn’t fall back into _ your _hands!” he shouts.

Lysithea lets out a dry laugh. “Has my return to celebrate my engagement really instilled that much fear in you?”

“You would have driven us out in a heartbeat if you discovered we were here,” the man says, and Lysithea feels a pinch at her skin from how the dagger presses against it. “You are too much of a threat to let live, and your precious fiancée is next—”

Lysithea grits her teeth in a flash of rage and latches onto the man’s arm around her, and through this tether, Lysithea uses her warp magic to switch their positions. Now Lysithea finds herself holding the blade to the man’s neck, and she slashes across.

Lysithea lets go of the mage, letting him fall to the ground, her eyes following him as he falls. The splatter of blood doesn’t evade Lysithea, with scarlet droplets staining the snowy white of her hair and the porcelain shade of her skin. She feels the blood dry in the creases in her fingers, a feeling most unpleasant.

“Useless…” Lysithea mutters, her grip tightening on the knife she still holds. With her free hand, Lysithea uses another warp spell to banish the body to the very depths of the Airmid River, which is fortunately well within her spell’s vast range. Now Lysithea’s left with blood on her hands and face, and a pool of it on the marble floor at her feet.

“How bothersome…” Lysithea lets out an annoyed sigh, and she mulls over the options in her mind of how to clean everything up.

“Lysithea!” a shrill shriek of her name catches her attention, and Lysithea’s eyes widen and snap to the source.

Rosalind stands upon the stairs, horrified beyond belief. She gradually musters the energy to descend the rest of the stairs and to approach Lysithea, until the only thing that separates them is the pool of blood. “What has happened to you?!” Rosalind asks, purely aghast.

“It’s not my blood,” Lysithea shakes her head. “Don’t worry—”

“It’s not _ your _ blood?!” Rosalind echoes, offended. “Are you hearing yourself right now, Lysithea? How does that lessen the gravity of the situation at all?!”

Lysithea opens her mouth to answer, but she’s too shocked by Rosalind’s words to think of any justification. In the war, that response would come as a relief, not make matters even worse. 

“You _ killed _ someone, Lysithea!” Rosalind shouts at her. “How…How could you?!”

“He threatened my life _ and _ Edelgard’s!” Lysithea shouts back. “How was I supposed to let him live when he had a knife to my neck?”

Rosalind lets out a shaky breath, overwhelmed with horror. “What have you become, Lysithea… What did you let the Empire do to you to make you this way?!”

Lysithea furrows her eyebrows at such a random accusation. “The Empire did nothing to me—”

“The Lysithea I raised would never take a life and stand before her mother coated in blood,” Rosalind says. “The Lysithea I sent off to the Officers Academy was a well-behaved, studious young girl! You…_This_...is not my daughter! My daughter is not a killer!”

“I did this to save myself, Mother!” Lysithea snaps, her anger boiling in her blood. “I’m doing all of this to save _ you_!”

“Save me?” Rosalind asks weakly, stepping away from Lysithea. Her eyes travel to the dagger still in Lysithea’s hand, whose grip on the hilt has tightened from anger and nerves throughout their argument. Now, the dagger is held rigidly in Lysithea’s grasp, as if Lysithea is preparing to use it. “You look as if you want to kill me, too.”

Lysithea quickly glances at the knife in her hand, and when she sees how tense her grip is, Lysithea gasps and drops it immediately, like the touch of it burns her skin. It falls into the puddle of blood, and Lysithea looks back at her mother with a scared look. “Never… I just want to protect you, Mother…”

“When this shell of my former daughter stands under my roof taking the lives of others without even so much as a blink of an eye, perhaps I should be protected from you,” Rosalind says gravely, forcing out her words even when her voice trembles. She turns away and moves to leave, but Lysithea chases after her, stepping through the blood to grab her wrist.

“Mother, please—” Lysithea pleads, desperate. “You can’t tell anyone this happened, I’m begging you—”

“Unhand me!” Rosalind gasps, tearing her wrist away in fear. Lysithea flinches and steps back, meekly holding her hands to her chest, keeping them away. They hold each other’s gazes in silence, Lysithea pleading for her mother’s cooperation, and Rosalind’s expression growing tired and weak. Rosalind clenches her jaw and slowly looks away, walking off. “Goodbye, Lysithea.”

Lysithea stands rooted in place as Rosalind walks away, unable to tear her gaze off of her mother until she’s out of view. All of the fight leaves Lysithea at once, and she feels an intense throb of guilt pulse through her. A twinge of fear remains as well, for the sake of her and Edelgard’s ruse, but she prays that Rosalind’s lack of refusal means she will keep this secret.

With a bitter taste in her mouth, Lysithea has no choice but to place her faith in her mother.

Lysithea warps away, fetching a rag before returning to the bloodied floor. She sinks to her knees and scrubs at the floor, cleaning it until the rag’s absorbed all of the blood. She incinerates the rag into ashes when she finishes, and uses a mild wind spell to scatter the ashes across the wide room until they look like innocuous pieces of dust.

Holding her hands meekly to her chest again, Lysithea leaves.

* * *

Lysithea looms over the basin of water in her washroom, staring at her reflection in the water, her hands gripping the table she set the basin on. She still can’t bring herself to move, her thoughts too clouded for her to focus.

A knock comes at the door, and Lysithea mutters permission for Edelgard to enter.

“Lysithea,” Edelgard says, and while her tone isn’t quite gentle, it lacks its usual firmness. “You’ve been in here for quite some time. Is everything alright?”

Lysithea turns her head to Edelgard, and the sight of blood on her face and hair earns her a raised eyebrow from Edelgard, the most visible show of concern Lysithea is ever going to see. “Don’t worry,” Lysithea says quietly. “It’s not mine.”

“That’s a relief,” Edelgard says, and she steps closer, folding her arms across her chest. “What happened?”

A question like that feels like business as usual. “One of the lower grunts stepped out of line and threatened my life for daring to be here and ruin their plans,” Lysithea says, and her tone is business as usual. “I didn’t get much information out of him before I killed him. Just that the people here most likely do not know _ why _ they’re here, only that they’ve been told to take over House Ordelia again and to not let it go.”

Edelgard raises a hand to her chin, pursing her lips in thought. “How useless.”

“That’s what I said,” Lysithea sneers, shaking her head with a sigh. “We still don’t know what they’re planning.”

“There has to be a leader among them who should know,” Edelgard says. “And we’ll find them.”

Lysithea just hums in acknowledgement to that, weak and lifeless. She returns her gaze to the basin of water, silent.

Noticing Lysithea’s strange behavior, Edelgard steps closer, tilting her head. “You seem more bothered than usual. Did something else happen?”

“My mother saw,” Lysithea whispers, squeezing her eyes shut. “I didn’t know she was there.”

Edelgard is quiet for a beat longer than usual before she responds. “Are we compromised?”

Lysithea shakes her head. “We shouldn’t be. She doesn’t know about us,” Lysithea narrows her eyes and digs her nails into the wood of the table. “She just thinks I’m a monster. So no, no big deal. At least we’re not compromised.”

Edelgard’s eyebrows crease out of concern, and she frowns. “Lysithea…”

“It’s fine,” Lysithea growls, betraying her words. “It doesn’t matter what she thinks. The mission matters more.”

Letting out a quiet sigh, Edelgard shakes her head. “Lysithea, please don’t say that. It does matter to you.”

“I can’t do anything to help what she thinks,” Lysithea says lowly. “She’s mourning the loss of her pure, innocent daughter she sent to the Academy six years ago. And she’s not wrong. I’m nothing like who I was the last time I stepped foot into this manor.”

“You’re not a monster, Lysithea,” Edelgard says. “Deep down, you haven’t changed. You’re still that hardworking, intelligent, selfless woman who left here all those years ago. The things you’ve done have not changed you one bit.”

Lysithea doesn’t reply. She only closes her eyes and lets out a pitiful sigh, feeling the emotions she always fights to bury come rising to the surface.

Edelgard moves so that she’s right next to Lysithea with an ease that’s only afforded to her by how often they’ve had to be in each other’s space because of their ruse. She takes a cloth and dips it into the basin of water, and she hands it over to Lysithea to use. “Please, take care of yourself.”

Lysithea weakly takes the cloth from Edelgard, though she just holds on to it, unmoving. Edelgard notices how Lysithea won’t move after that, and she frowns slightly. “Do you want help?”

The thought of having Edelgard clean her off fills Lysithea with unease, but she also knows that she doesn’t have the energy to do it herself. “I...I don’t know,” Lysithea whispers.

Edelgard takes the cloth back from Lysithea and takes her hand, browned with dried blood. “Then if you don’t want me to do this, you can tell me to stop.”

Lysithea lets out a deep breath, letting Edelgard wipe the blood off her hands. It doesn’t feel that bad, and she supposes it’s better than her doing it on her own, being faced with cleaning away her sins when her mind is in the guilty state that it is. “Thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me,” Edelgard says. “Seeing you this way…it saddens me a great deal. I’m merely trying to help out in the only ways I am able.”

“Still,” Lysithea says. “When the Emperor is washing the blood from my skin, it’s hard not to thank her for doing this.”

“I’m not the Emperor right now,” Edelgard replies quietly. “You know this.”

Lysithea lowers her gaze and swallows, nodding her head. “Right. Sorry.”

Edelgard glances up from Lysithea’s hands, her eyes landing upon the linear splatter of blood that runs from Lysithea’s left cheek, over her nose, to her forehead. Wordlessly, she dips the cloth into the basin of water again, and she gets a clean part of the rag over her fingers to dab away at the stained blood.

Lysithea keeps her gaze off Edelgard as she works, not having the energy to handle their gazes meeting. A cloud still hangs in her mind, but she tries to echo Edelgard’s words in telling herself that she shouldn’t feel so guilty. As she repeats this mantra to herself in her mind, she finds herself speaking some of it aloud, without intending to. “He had a knife to my neck.”

“You protected yourself,” Edelgard says, and she shakes her head to toss some of the hair out of her face so she can focus better. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“He said he’d kill you next.”

“And so you protected me,” Edelgard finishes for her without hesitation. “These things are necessary for our survival in a world as violent as ours. Your mother only knows death as pain, that takes everything she holds dearest around her. She’s never had to use it to survive like we have,” a pause. “It’s not your fault she doesn’t understand, nor is it her fault for not understanding.”

Lysithea clenches her jaw, but even though her body tenses, her mind feels more relaxed. “You’re wise.”

Edelgard looks at Lysithea’s eyes, and in that moment, Lysithea looks up, and their gazes are able to meet. “This isn’t wisdom. This is just what I’ve been telling myself for years.”

Lysithea feels the intensity of Edelgard’s gaze, the similar conflict brewing in Edelgard’s eyes that Lysithea feels running rampant in herself. A frown tugs at her lips, and a thought shoots across her mind as she stands there with Edelgard, all too cognizant of their appearances, and the history that hides in their hair.

And Lysithea mourns how the two of them have been broken, pieced back together, and broken again and again in a cycle to leave them into the exhausted beings they are, to the point that these are the things they have to remind themselves of.

But maybe, maybe having someone who has been shattered the exact same way next to her, close enough in age to have this bond between them, yet just slightly older enough to impart the experience she has with her, gives Lysithea the strength to not let her pieces shatter apart once more and collapse into irreparable ash.

A wave of emotion washes over Lysithea, an emotion that she’s only felt twice before around Edelgard. The first, when Edelgard gave Lysithea her very first glimpse into the truth that she wasn’t the only one who endured and survived what she did, and the second, when Lysithea devoted her life to Edelgard, pledging her unyielding loyalty to her cause, and swearing fealty to Edelgard herself.

That wave is an overwhelming mix of relief, empathy, understanding, and need. A wave of emotion only formed when they only have each other who can understand what they’ve been through. To anyone else, no amount of empathy can make up for how they will never know the true depths of the pain they’ve experienced. But with Edelgard, Lysithea has someone who understands. 

It’s that wave of emotion that reminds Lysithea of just how deep her connection with Edelgard lies, and just how important Edelgard is to her.

“Thank you,” Lysithea whispers, voicing the thought that all of her introspection led to.

“I said thanks weren’t necessary,” Edelgard says.

Lysithea shakes her head. “Not for this. For everything you are to me.”

Edelgard meets Lysithea’s eye, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. But she notices the sincerity in Lysithea’s gaze, how the genuine gratitude shines in Lysithea’s soft pink eyes, and Edelgard chooses not to question it. 

But for once, Edelgard finds herself without anything to say, gently pushed into speechlessness, something so foreign that she almost doesn’t know how to handle it. So she lets her actions speak when her words fail her.

Edelgard takes Lysithea’s shoulder and gives it a secure squeeze, imparting every ounce of support and strength onto Lysithea that she wishes her words could convey, but she knows she cannot articulate. 

And for Lysithea, the affirmation of Edelgard’s mirrored connection to her is enough.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No, I—” Edelgard shakes her head. “This is a conversation long overdue. I should be honest.”
> 
> Just those words are enough to stun Lysithea into silence, and she wordlessly nods, unable to bring herself to piece any response together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **content warnings: mild suggestive/sexual content, death mention, and relatively detailed depictions of scars**
> 
> these girls just don't fuckin shut up

With the week or so that passes, they settle into a routine at the manor.

The sunlight hours of the day are filled with the act they have to put on. They eat their meals with the family, occasionally help out around the manor, and more often than not they get roped into spending time with the family whenever Celia or Voltemand politely demand time to bond. Lysithea finds that playing part in the ruse comes easier to her— the dread of having to partake in a lie is still there, but engaging in those affectionate acts themselves no longer fills Lysithea with such unease. It becomes natural to her, and she finds herself playing a bigger part in initiating those acts than she thought she would.

But, with the family’s demands during the day, Lysithea and Edelgard find little time in their schedule to investigate those who slither in the dark. So, when the sun goes down and they’re left to their own devices, they carry out the investigative work that they set out to House Ordelia to do. 

That’s why, when Lysithea spends a stormy night studying the list they’ve exhausted looking for those infiltrators, Edelgard dragging a body into the room with her doesn’t surprise her.

“A guest?” Lysithea says dryly, not even looking up from her papers. “How exciting.”

“He wasn’t the leader,” Edelgard sighs in annoyance, letting the body drop to the ground. “He knew nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“They never do,” Lysithea says. “What’s up with that?”

“Their plans vex me so. For the life of me, I cannot even begin to assume what they’re planning. Their presence here has no reason behind it,” Edelgard rests her hand by her chin.

“Maybe it’s what you predicted before we came here,” Lysithea says. “That they took my territory as a strategic foothold within Fódlan. Perhaps they’re preparing an attack against us.”

“But why the Ordelia territory?” Edelgard asks, furrowing her eyebrows in thought. “They could have taken any territory closer to Enbarr, but they chose yours specifically.”

Lysithea narrows her eyes, feeling an anger rise within her. “Maybe they wanted to make it hurt.”

“Easy…” Edelgard says carefully, not wanting Lysithea’s anger to grow. “That would align with their modus operandi until now.”

“Makes sense,” Lysithea says lowly, but she does her best to keep her anger in check. “Acquiring territory that has close ties with the capital _ and _ comes as a personal offense to us? How _ perfect_.”

“I’ll tell the neighboring territories to begin organizing military forces in secret, and I will have the Great Bridge of Myrddin more heavily fortified,” Edelgard says, and she meets Lysithea’s eye. “Hopefully Hubert’s investigation into their stronghold has been producing results since we left Enbarr. The sooner we can launch this attack, the better. We wouldn’t want them to gain any more territory before we discover their base.”

Lysithea nods her head slowly, and her eyes drift to the body on the floor. “Are you just going to keep him there on the floor while we sleep tonight?”

“Ah, him,” Edelgard glances at the body too. “I was hoping you could dispose of it for me.”

Lysithea looks at Edelgard in disbelief, blinking. “Edelgard… It’s storming out there. If I warp him into the Airmid River from here, I can’t reliably know he won’t float away in the rapid currents.”

“If we attach weights to his body, then that shouldn’t be much of an issue, now would it?” Edelgard says.

“In a storm like this, it still might be,” Lysithea says. “Unless I go there and make sure of it myself.”

Edelgard blinks and looks at her expectantly. Lysithea’s expression falls into a deadpan. “No.”

“But, my sweet, I do not wish to share our quarters with a third tonight,” Edelgard protests, slipping that nickname into her words with no qualms in the slightest.  
  


“Like continuing our charade into _ my _ quarters will change my mind,” Lysithea huffs, glancing away with a flustered look.

Edelgard lets out a quiet sigh, but she regains her determination and steps closer to Lysithea, lowering her voice and tilting her head, raising a single brow. “What if I made all of this trouble worth your while?”

Lysithea’s eyes widen as she looks up at Edelgard, and she gulps down her nerves that rise in her throat. That fluster from before only grows, and she feels her cheeks grow red at the implications Lysithea’s mind draws from Edelgard’s words. Why is her mind so hung up on what Edelgard could be promising, and why is Lysithea finding herself excited by it? “Ex…Explain how.”

Edelgard just blinks. “Sweets, of course. What else?”

Lysithea shoots up from her chair and walks away, avoiding Edelgard’s gaze. At this rate, she’d rather brave the storm with the corpse than to be caught in this horribly awkward conversation with Edelgard… “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I’ll be back. I’ll be angry and drenched and cold, but I’ll be back.”

“Good girl,” Edelgard grins in a mix of victory and playfulness.

“Shut up!” Lysithea growls before disappearing in a flash of white magic.

In about ten minutes, Lysithea returns a dripping-wet mess filled with mud and rainwater, shivering. Her eyes search for Edelgard, but she’s nowhere to be found in their room.

“Don’t tell me you got so scared you ran off, you coward,” Lysithea says into the empty room, though her words quiver from how her body shakes from the cold.

Edelgard steps into the room from the adjacent washroom, holding a towel in her hand. “I figured you’d want a warm bath when you returned, so I started running one for you.”

Lysithea stomps up to Edelgard and snatches the towel, glaring at her, pouting; yet for the life of her, she can’t bring herself to hold that glare when Edelgard is being so considerate. “Thank you.”

Edelgard just lets her pout. “No, thank you,” she says sincerely.

Lysithea has to look away when she sees Edelgard’s genuine gratitude, knowing she can’t keep up the fight. Instead, she wordlessly leaves Edelgard to head to the washroom. She disrobes when she’s alone in there, casting aside her muddy clothes, and she slowly sinks into the hot water. It’s a bit of a jolt to go from being that cold to entering water that hot, but it soon becomes a welcome sensation the more she grows attune to it. 

Lysithea cleans herself off fairly quickly, but she doesn’t immediately leave the bath once she’s done. She sits in the warm water for a little while longer, closing her eyes and allowing herself a moment to herself— truly to herself, and not just in her room with Edelgard. Her mind wanders to reflect on the time she’s spent at the manor, and with Edelgard. 

Without a doubt, Lysithea knows that something’s been changing since they began the ruse. The way that she sees Edelgard now is different than before, mostly because she’s been able to see a softer, more affectionate side to her than she’s used to seeing. Lysithea thinks it's probably natural that she feels so drawn to this new side of her just because of its novelty, not because of anything else. But she can’t shake how much she’s been enjoying these small displays of affection between them, adoring every little petname Edelgard uses, feeling that warmth that spreads inside of her every time they spend time together. Is she just that fascinated by this new side of Edelgard that Lysithea finds herself attracted to it? Or is she just assuming the role she has to play so well that she cannot separate real life and their ruse?

She cannot shake what she felt when Edelgard whispered to her that she’ll make doing her a favor worth Lysithea’s while, when that shock gave into intrigue, and that intrigue then led to a hidden desire, wishing that those were Edelgard’s true intentions. She tries to tell herself that this is all a lapse in judgment on her end— that she doesn’t truly feel this way but her mind is making things up just to try to understand— but when the sound of an armoire closing from the adjacent room jolts her from her reverie, Lysithea becomes all too aware of her hand’s presence, not even knowing when it slipped in between her legs.

Suddenly Lysithea wishes the warm water was cold instead.

Lysithea quickly moves to drain the water, no longer wanting to be in a bath, but not before gathering water in her hands and splashing it over her face. She pulls herself out of the tub and dries herself off, wrapping the towel around her and moving into her room. When Lysithea steps out of the washroom, the first thing she notices is a pile of clothes on her side of the bed, and she can feel her heart swell as she purses her lips into a pout. Edelgard shouldn’t be allowed to be that considerate.

“I hope you’re still not mad at me,” Edelgard says from where she stands in front of the mirror, brushing through her hair.

Lysithea shakes her head, unfolding her nightclothes. She doesn’t think she could be. “I’m not.”

“Hopefully the bath was relaxing too,” Edelgard replies. “You were in there for quite some time.”

Lysithea tightens her jaw and keeps her eyes low and away, feeling her cheeks redden with fluster. “The time to myself was nice…”

“I’m sure.”

Lysithea knows that she’s the only one who feels that the air between them is thick and uncomfortable, but that’s merely her own doing, too wrapped up in her own head. She tries to distract herself by getting changed, and even though Edelgard is turned away from her, Lysithea can’t help but look over her shoulder, curious to see if Edelgard is also curious enough to steal a glance.

She curses herself when it doesn’t happen, because of course it wouldn’t. Why would it?

Lysithea sits down on the edge of her bed and braids her hair when she’s finished changing, trying to force her composure. It works for a little while, and it allows her to lay in the same bed as Edelgard without her mind running rampant. But it only gets her so far, since she’s still incredibly tense and wound up and cannot get herself to fall asleep. She doesn’t know how long she lays on her side, staring out the window, listening to the raging sounds of the storm outside. But it feels like an eternity she lays there without sleeping, and when she hears the sheets of the bed rustle and feels the shift in the mattress when Edelgard turns onto her other side with a soft, agitated sigh, she knows she’s not the only one with this problem.

Lysithea glances over her shoulder, seeing how Edelgard is now turned on her side facing her. “Can’t sleep?” Lysithea asks gently, not wanting to startle her.

Edelgard’s eyes slowly open, meeting Lysithea’s own. Edelgard shakes her head. “I’m afraid not.”

“It’s okay,” Lysithea says, and she turns so she’s facing Edelgard. She regrets it almost immediately after doing it, noticing how close she moved to Edelgard on accident, with barely a foot of space between them once she’s done. “I can’t sleep either.”

Edelgard lets out a hum in acknowledgement to that, looking away. Lysithea takes it upon herself to speak up, not wanting to let this chance to spend time with Edelgard slip by her. “Have you been sleeping okay since we got here?”

Edelgard shrugs her shoulders noncommittedly. “As well as I can, I suppose. If I can sleep, I’m sleeping more than I did back in Enbarr— mostly because I’m not kept up at night with paperwork or woken early for meetings at sunrise.”

“Ah,” Lysithea nods her head. “That’s a bit better, then.”

“Could be worse,” Edelgard sighs, and she slides her hand underneath the pillow she rests her head on. Lysithea frowns at the sight of it, knowing that Edelgard’s just now become aware her bare skin was out in the open, and she moved to hide it before Lysithea could notice.

“You know,” Lysithea begins, her voice downtrodden— she wants nothing more than to beg for Edelgard’s trust, but she knows it’ll never be given to her, “you don’t need to hide yourself from me. I would never think any less of you if I saw.”

Lysithea sees the way Edelgard’s throat bobs with an unpleasant swallow, and Edelgard’s shoulders hunch from her muscles tensing. “I would think less of myself for letting you see,” she admits quietly.

Lysithea’s eyebrows knit together out of concern. “Why…?”

“These marks are hideous,” Edelgard says. “Part of me still fears that others will see them the same way I do.”

Lysithea stays silent for a moment, mulling over her words in her head. She averts her gaze to her arm, and she pushes back the sleeve of her nightgown to reveal her forearm, turning it over so Edelgard can see the puncture scars from repeated, unsuccessful injections. Lysithea opens her mouth to say something, but Edelgard cuts her off before she can get a word in.

“Lysithea, I didn’t mean to imply that yours were, too—” Edelgard corrects herself, a brief flash of guilt upon her expression for misspeaking.

Lysithea shakes her head. “I know you’d never say that. But that’s my point exactly. If you don’t see my scars as hideous, then why are you so hard on your own?”

“I—” Edelgard has to cut herself off, stunned by Lysithea’s words. “I don’t know. I guess I see them as permanent reminders of my own shortcomings.”

“Shortcomings of what? For being weak?” Lysithea asks, yet her voice is still gentle. “You were a child, Edelgard. Children can’t be weak. They’re _ children_.”

Edelgard doesn’t respond to that, and Lysithea sees Edelgard swallow the same as before. Lysithea lets out a soft breath, considering an idea in her mind, and she decides to follow through with it, trusting Edelgard with seeing. “I want you to see something.”

Edelgard raises an eyebrow at Lysithea, and Lysithea inhales sharply to garner her confidence. She reaches back and tugs at cross-stitches which hold her nightgown’s back together, loosening the tight weaving of the laces so the neck of her grown is now wide enough to pull it over her shoulders. She pulls the gown just far down enough to keep her chest covered, but she reveals the surgical scar that runs horizontally across the entirety of her breastbone, as well as the vertical scar that runs perpendicular, trailing from the center of her chest downward until it eventually becomes covered by the rest of the fabric. It resembles the very same incisions made by natural philosophers who perform examinations to discover someone’s cause of death— the very same incisions found on corpses.

“You’ve noticed I don’t really care if people see the scars on my arms, or my hands, or my legs, but… only one other person has seen this one,” Lysithea confesses in a whisper, her eyes avoiding Edelgard’s. “This one…is one of the hardest for me to accept. It’s…dehumanizing. It makes me feel as if I’m dead, and my life was taken from me— and the fact that most of it was only makes the feeling worse. I…I used to always feel subhuman following those experiments, and with the two Crests inside me that only function to increase my power in battle… I just felt like a walking weapon, like I wasn’t even human anymore. These scars make it look like I _ died_, and a weapon took my place. I haven’t even fully begun to recover from that. This scar _ is _ my shortcoming, that mindset that I still have to try and tell myself isn’t true.”

Edelgard’s gaze loses its strength when it dips to look at Lysithea’s scars, and her lips pull into a miserable frown as she hears Lysithea’s story. The same battle that Lysithea feels inside of her, Lysithea can see play out on Edelgard’s expression.

“I feel like a weapon too,” Edelgard says. “A pawn, constantly under my uncle’s thumb, always unwittingly carrying out his plans, cursed to always suffer the consequences if I so much as try to rebel. It’s…an awful feeling.”

“It’s been getting easier,” Lysithea says. “With the help of others, that self-hatred goes away for a little while, and I can feel real again.”

Edelgard glances away, her jaw clenched tightly. “That seems like something you’d be better at than I.”

“Are you so sure about that? The reason why I’m able to feel human is you.”

Edelgard looks back at Lysithea in surprise for a moment, but she masks it quickly and lets out a dry laugh, looking away again. “Please, don’t feel the need to say things that are untrue just to make me feel better.”

Lysithea shakes her head, her gaze unwavering as she looks at Edelgard, completely sincere. “I mean it. You see beyond my Crests and my power. You’re one of the few people who has bothered to see me for me, who I maybe could have been were it not for everything that’s changed me.”

Edelgard closes her eyes, a torn frown upon her features. She falls to silence, though she constantly looks as if she wishes to say something, and something finally compels her to speak.

“I need to confess that that hasn’t always been true.”

Lysithea tilts her head, confused. “How so?”

Edelgard shakes her head, refusing to say anything further. “I do not wish to offend you. I know matters of this nature bother you deeply, and that’s the last thing I wish to do right now.”

Lysithea frowns, not at Edelgard’s reluctance, but rather at the realization that she’s the reason why Edelgard cannot be comfortable being honest. “Hey,” she says gently, reaching out for the sleeve of Edelgard’s nightgown, which she tugs lightly. “Don’t worry about that. I won’t get upset. I just want to listen to you, Edelgard. Everything you have to say, the good and the bad.”

Edelgard meets Lysithea’s gaze for the first time in a long while, searching in Lysithea’s eyes. She seems to have found her answer, because she lets out a soft breath and slowly starts to speak, carefully picking out her words. “For the longest time, I used to look at you and feel…overwhelmed with guilt.”

Lysithea’s eyes widen, surprised by that sort of confession— because she never expected to have had that sort of effect on someone like Edelgard. “Really?”

Edelgard slowly nods her head. “I understand better than anyone how detestable sympathy and pity are in excess, and I scorn how theatrical people become in their apologies when they learn of things of this nature— something which I am quite sure you experience as well,” she begins, and she lets out a ragged sigh before continuing. “But with you… the guilt I felt was different than that. I felt consumed with remorse that you were…the prototype for my own experiments, the predecessor whose drawbacks informed my captors of what to do differently so I did not experience the same fate as you. I…I felt guilty that you, who was disproportionately punished in a pointless retaliation by the old Empire, had to and continue to suffer for my benefit, and my survival.”

Lysithea feels her lips part from her surprise, her eyes shooting even wider than before at Edelgard’s words. “I… Edelgard, you can’t possibly blame yourself for not suffering _ enough_—”

“I’m sorry,” Edelgard whispers, looking away. “I taught myself to no longer feel that way at the first sight of you long ago, but…deep down, it’s a feeling I ultimately cannot shake.”

“I could never, _ ever _ hold my own problems against you because you do not share them,” Lysithea tugs at Edelgard’s sleeve again, her voice wavering from a rush of emotion building in her throat and in her eyes. “When I look at you, I don’t see you for what pain you managed to escape. I see you and I feel heartbroken that you had to go through the same pain that I did.”

“I’m sorry,” Edelgard repeats, weaker than the last. “I’m afraid my missteps do not end there. I fear I’ve wronged you far too much in the time we’ve known each other.”

“I… _ how_?” Lysithea stammers, confused. “I’ve never even noticed.”

“Perhaps not,” Edelgard says. “But they’re things I still fault myself for.”

“...You don’t have to tell me,” Lysithea says. “Don’t feel like you must.”

“No, I—” Edelgard shakes her head. “This is a conversation long overdue. I should be honest.”

Just those words are enough to stun Lysithea into silence, and she wordlessly nods, unable to bring herself to piece any response together. 

In the silence, Edelgard starts to speak.

“Have you…felt it too, that realization that only occurs in the rarest of moments, when you become aware of that gravitation between us, and the intensity of our bond?” Edelgard asks, only able to meet Lysithea’s gaze at the very end, otherwise too uncertain to do so at the beginning.

“Yes,” Lysithea answers without hesitation.

Edelgard nods, almost appreciatively to not be the sole one to experience that. “Well… the first time I felt that, it was when you cornered me about what I assumed about you, and you discovered that the same thing happened to me. You…You remember that conversation, don’t you?” 

“I felt it too,” Lysithea says. “That same day, I felt it too.”

“I had no idea what that feeling was at first,” Edelgard says. “My first assumption…was entirely incorrect, and I fooled myself and was utterly selfish in our friendship for a few years. It’s something I regret and have had to rectify ever since.”

Lysithea furrows her eyebrows from confusion, but never in a way that’s accusatory. She merely looks at Edelgard for more of an explanation to understand. “How so…?”

“I thought that feeling was a calling, urging me to protect you and to look after you. In that moment, I saw you as my second chance to have a family after my first was untimely ripped from me… Selfishly, I started to see you as my little sister,” Edelgard admits quietly, guiltily.

A profound ache throbs in Lysithea’s chest to be called a little sister, and her expression crumbles into disappointment and sadness. Being relegated to only family hurts Lysithea more than she can properly understand why, but she_ can _ grasp that it’s because she wants something entirely different from Edelgard than sisterly love. “I…” Lysithea whispers, weak.

“I didn’t know the harm of it until I noticed how much you had to protest against it from nearly everyone else, how they used that to patronize you and to discredit your own strength and independence. I realized quickly that I was doing the same, picturing you in my mind as something you were not, and something you clearly didn’t want to be,” Edelgard lowers her gaze and shakes her head. “I tried to fix it before you noticed. I didn’t want to jeopardize what we had because I overstepped.”

“Edelgard…” Lysithea trails off, still reeling from that pain in her heart. “Missing your family and what you had isn’t selfish…”

“No,” Edelgard says. “But forcing an image on you to relive it was.”

“Well, you obviously weren’t obnoxious about it like everyone else who did the same to me was,” Lysithea sighs. “I’m not mad, Edelgard. I’m not as irritable and volatile as I used to be when I was younger. You don’t have to act as if you’re treading on thin ice whenever you interact with me. I don’t want you to think you have to be perfect in our relationship…”

“You’re right,” Edelgard concedes, closing her eyes in defeat. “I just— I…” uncharacteristically, Edelgard speaks rashly, that level of consideration before choosing her words evaporating both from Lysithea’s words and from a sudden insecurity rising to the surface. “You’re the first person who never had any obligation to me, who _ chose _ to know me, to spend time with me, to follow me in the war— I’ve never had anyone like you in my life, and I always fear I’ll mess this up.”

Lysithea blinks from surprise at Edelgard’s swift, unusual honesty, though she quickly reorganizes herself and tugs at Edelgard’s sleeve again, a reassuring smile on her face. “You know, even if you do mess up, I can’t hate you forever. Hell, did you forget how you made me go out in the rain to clean up _ your _ mess? I forgave you for that, with my very kind, gracious, and merciful heart.”

A jest like that gets Edelgard to stifle a laugh and glance away, shaking her head in exasperation. “Oh, yes. How very kind indeed.”

Lysithea’s expression softens from its playfulness before, though she still smiles at Edelgard. “Any relationship isn’t real if you try to be perfect in every second of it. Messing up is a part of every dynamic. We’ve well established how deep our bond runs, so I think we can piece things together again if we make mistakes.”

Edelgard manages to flash a small smile, and even if such a sign is only fleeting, the way her hand moves from under the pillow to touch Lysithea’s own reaffirms her gratefulness. “When did you grow to be so wise?”

Lysithea shrugs, her fingers fumbling with Edelgard’s as her smile grows. “I didn’t know I had it in me. Maybe it only comes out in times of necessity.”

“I see,” Edelgard says lightheartedly, leading to a pause. When she resumes speaking, her voice is much quieter. “Thank you, for all of your words and understanding.”

“Always,” Lysithea says sincerely. “Rarely do you ever tell me so much of what you’re feeling. It’s the least I can do in return.”

“Ah… I did reveal a lot more than I intended to tonight,” Edelgard hums with a heavy breath. “There must be something in the air. This is unlike me.”

“It’s a side of you I could get used to seeing, though,” Lysithea says. She hesitates for a moment, but she eventually gives in. “Before this honesty wears off… there’s something I want to ask you.”

“I’m listening,” Edelgard says.

Lysithea swallows, feeling her mouth run dry. She bites that uncertainty down and forces herself to ask, “Do you…still see me as your little sister?”

Edelgard’s hesitation answers for her, and Lysithea feels that overbearing ache in her chest return. Edelgard carefully selects her words again, wanting to be careful yet honest at the same time. “I wish to someday see you as the way you want to be seen, and not as what my mind has decided for you in error.”

Lysithea swallows again, this time having to force down the emotion she feels welling inside of her, to ignore the way her heart hangs in two in her chest. She lowers her gaze, unwilling to respond.

“How do you want me to see you, Lysithea?” Edelgard asks.

So many answers rush to the tip of Lysithea’s tongue, answers which shock and confuse her, intimidate her by the intimacy they demand and the way that her mind immediately decides this is what she wants. She sorts through all those surprising, instinctual responses, searching for the one closest to the truth, and the one she can bring herself to say. 

“As the woman who chose you above everyone else.”

Lysithea so boldly dares to lift her gaze to witness Edelgard’s reaction, and she can read the way Edelgard endeavors to understand Lysithea’s words. But Lysithea keeps her expression neutral and unwavering with every ounce of willpower she can muster, refusing to divulge the true meaning behind her words.

And as if in defeat, Edelgard reluctantly accepts her confusion by Lysithea’s words and her inability to understand them. She nods her head slowly, at least showing her acknowledgement, that she’s listening.

“Good night, Edelgard,” Lysithea says, turning away. Suddenly she feels exhausted, but not in the context of sleep; exhausted in having to grapple with herself and with Edelgard’s perceptions of her.

“Good night,” Edelgard returns, and from the lack of noise Lysithea hears, she can only assume that Edelgard doesn’t move.

But Lysithea forces herself to forget about that, and to instead focus on falling asleep.

Sleep doesn’t come easy for her that night. And from the sound of it, it doesn’t for Edelgard, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you liked this chapter then please head to @janeeexxyeon on instagram and comment on her latest photo "please cover want by taemin" thank you


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Edelgard reaches out her hand to guide Lysithea onto the path to revenge, Lysithea must follow.
> 
> “Whatever this plan demands of me, I shall do it,” Lysithea answers, voice unwavering.

Lysithea wakes up to an empty bed, but for the first time, not an empty room.

Slowly she opens her eyes, squinting from the sudden light pouring into the room— a stark contrast from the storm of the day before—and she draws in a sharp breath as she stretches her back and rubs at her eyes. Lysithea sits up, fully believing herself to be alone, but she glances over to see that Edelgard is standing in front of the mirror still, finishing getting dressed. From the reflection of the mirror, Lysithea can see Edelgard buttoning her vest, and all she can think about is how she wishes she could be doing the reverse.

Lysithea groans and throws herself back onto the bed, squeezing her eyes shut. It’s too early for her mind to be wandering like this.

Edelgard glances up, looking at Lysithea through the reflection. “How long have you been awake?”

“Not long,” Lysithea quickly answers, not wanting Edelgard to think she had been staring. “A few seconds.”

“I hope I didn’t wake you,” Edelgard says.

“I’m not even really awake,” Lysithea mutters, rubbing at her face. “My mind isn’t working right…”

“Well, you might want to fix that soon,” Edelgard says. “We’re bound to be expected for breakfast in a little while.”

“Right…” Lysithea sighs, and she stands up from the bed. She grabs clothes for the day from the armoire, and she makes the pointed decision to change in the washroom. When she’s prepared, she returns into her chambers, seeing Edelgard waiting for her by the door.

Lysithea draws in a breath to prepare herself as they step out of their room, knowing a long day of the ruse is in front of her. Today more than ever, she feels so unwilling to partake in this act, feeling a strange air linger over her from the day before. Between her thoughts in the bath and the crushing revelations of their conversation, the last thing Lysithea wants to do is play pretend with Edelgard. Perhaps Lysithea’s reaching her limits with this charade, with the stress of faking this relationship causing her mind to malfunction, leading her to this peculiar reaction around Edelgard. 

They’re joined by Osric shortly after they leave their chambers, with Osric bowing in apology.

“I’m afraid breakfast preparation will take a little while longer than usual today,” Osric says. “Lady Celia said she feels too unwell to contribute, so the staff has had to readjust.”

“She’s been feeling awful quite a lot lately,” Lysithea ponders, pursing her lips in a frown. “It’s unlike her.”

“Before you arrived, she experienced similar ailments,” Osric says. “But this is only a recent development. She insists against seeing a doctor because her sickness spells always wear off a few hours after she wakes, but she’s been experiencing these spells more frequently as of late.”

Edelgard looks to Lysithea with furrowed brows. “Could her sickness be caused by those who slither in the dark?”

“Are you suggesting that Celia’s being poisoned?” Lysithea asks, and a red stripe of anger flashes across her eyes.

“That’s the only explanation I can come up with. I don’t know why else she would be so unwell every morning,” Edelgard says.

Osric shakes his head. “Unlikely. This started before they arrived. Or, at least— before we knew of them.”

“So it’s something we cannot ignore,” Edelgard says.

Lysithea grits her teeth and feels another rush of anger spread through her. “Osric, keep a closer eye on her. Make sure no one gets close enough for poison. I am _ not _ having these bastards take more of my family from me—”

“Easy,” Edelgard says, turning to Lysithea. “Please, keep your anger in check. We wouldn’t want people to hear, and it’s not good for you to get this riled up, either.”

Lysithea huffs and straightens out her clothes, doing her best to dispel her anger. She tries to distract herself, and she wonders what they’ll do now that breakfast won’t be ready for them. Lysithea is about to ask, but she feels a sudden chill spread through her body, hitting her through her spine and coursing everywhere else. She furrows her eyebrows in confusion at that, vaguely recognizing the sensation from elsewhere, but unable to believe that her instincts are correct.

Hesitantly, Lysithea turns around, confused. “...Hubert?”

To her surprise, her instincts were correct, and Hubert stands there, a few paces behind her. He looks amused when Lysithea spots him, crossing his arms and lifting his chin.

“You sure discovered my presence rather quickly,” Hubert muses. “Impressive.”

“Before even me,” Edelgard glances at Lysithea, intrigued. “How is that?”

Lysithea shrugs uneasily. “Maybe it’s the magic we share.”

Edelgard seems to catch her irrelevant curiosity and shakes her head to dismiss it, and she moves closer to Hubert, breaking away from Lysithea and Osric. “You’re here, which means you bring news. For our sake, I hope it’s news to our benefit.”

Hubert clears his throat and drops his gaze for a moment, though he still stands tall in front of Edelgard. “I’m afraid that is not the case, Your Majesty. I bring concerning news from Enbarr.”

Lysithea crosses her arms, feeling her eyes narrow as a defense against the bad news they’re sure to receive. She steps closer to Osric as well, now that Edelgard is no longer by her side.

“There’s been a considerable leak regarding your presence here, Your Majesty, as well as its reasoning. The people in Enbarr know of the engagement, and are calling for a formal announcement of it posthaste,” Hubert bows his head both in respect and in a measure to avoid the reaction the news is bound to draw out of Edelgard.

“It leaked?” Lysithea recoils, gritting her teeth in surprise.

Edelgard’s eyebrows raise in a mixture of alarm and disturbance, and she turns to Lysithea. “Were you not supposed to inform everyone that this matter was meant to be kept _ silent?_”

Lysithea does not miss the way Edelgard nearly hisses that final word, and she can feel her own annoyance beginning to flare. “That was the first thing I told my father upon arriving here,” she growls. “This leak was not due to _ my _ error.”

“All of the staff received orders from the Count to remain silent on the issue until there was a formal announcement, and that any spread of the information would be considered a capital offense for sharing state secrets,” Osric says, though he stammers his words because of Edelgard and Lysithea’s outbursts. 

“Then who—” Lysithea begins, though she is quickly cut off.

“This must be those who slither in the dark’s retaliation for interfering in their plans,” Edelgard mutters, her gaze trained on her hand, which trembles from her growing frustration until she clenches it into a fist. “How could I have failed in accounting for this? Merely existing within their presence in the midst of one of their plots would have been considered an offense— how could I have erred so severely?”

“Your Majesty, I believe it’s time we deemed this excursion a failure and reorganized our efforts elsewhere. I have managed to narrow down the location of those who slither in the dark’s stronghold from a tip that their base is in the mountains,” Hubert says. “This refines our search across Fódlan considerably.”

“No,” Edelgard says, throwing out her arm towards Hubert to cut him off. “This is a test. They’re assessing the veracity of our engagement by forcing us to act. If we pull out now, they will know that our presence here was a probe into their latest move, and they will retaliate. But if we were to confirm it… then that buys us more time, and safety.”

Lysithea feels an uncomfortable pit in her stomach, and she shifts on her feet. Her mouth runs dry, and she clenches her jaw, unsettled by where this is going. “You’re willing to take this ruse to the people?”

“This option will protect more people, even if we must broadcast it to the nation,” Edelgard meets Lysithea’s eye, resolute. “I am willing.”

“It’s a _ lie_,” Lysithea counters.

And to Lysithea’s surprise, she brings Edelgard pause. But Edelgard’s gaze doesn’t waver, even if she stops and tightens her jaw before responding. “We either lie, or we needlessly subject our people to those who slither in the dark’s retaliation for our misgressions,” she says. “When all is said and done, and we tell the people how our actions exterminated the rot that exists within this country, then we can rebuild the trust that we will rattle.”

“Your Majesty, I believe we should reconsider,” Hubert insists, his voice low.

Edelgard’s gaze still remains on Lysithea, even when she responds to him. “I have made my decision, Hubert. Now I must wait for hers.”

Lysithea exhales a ragged breath, but she doesn’t break from Edelgard’s eyes. She lifts her chin in a challenge, feeling a resistance brew within her, born out of her unease and discomfort. She could barely stomach lying to her family— how can she handle lying to a whole nation.

“You can’t possibly expect me to say yes,” Lysithea sneers, her eyes narrowing.

“I could have ordered your participation, but given the nature of this scheme, I cannot in sound mind impose this on you,” Edelgard returns. “But I will ask you again— how far are you willing to go to eliminate the ones who hurt you and your family, and who continue to place your lives in danger?”

Lysithea grunts to that, hating the way Edelgard’s trying to persuade her through an appeal to that anger that burns within her, that anger that never extinguishes, and will never be extinguished until she sees those villains destroyed. She hates the way that she can feel herself slipping into that anger, succumbing to those flames of wrath, indulging in that desire to see those who slither in the dark dead at her feet as recompense for what they have done to her and her family.

When Edelgard reaches out her hand to guide Lysithea onto the path to revenge, Lysithea must follow.

“Whatever this plan demands of me, I shall do it,” Lysithea answers, voice unwavering.

“And I, as well,” Edelgard returns, nodding her head. 

“I suppose now we must organize the formal announcement,” Hubert says, his displeasure evident within his tone.

Lysithea turns to Osric, her gaze low, defeated. “We’ll need to return to Enbarr for a little while today. Cover for us?”

Osric bows his head. “If someone asks of your whereabouts, I’ll say you and Her Majesty have requested some time alone within the gardens.”

“A sound idea,” Edelgard says. “We’ll return shortly with a finalized plan.”

Osric nods, and his gaze shifts to Lysithea. Lysithea meets it for a moment, and in that shared glance, both show their worry, with Lysithea’s shining the strongest. Osric’s frown deepens to see Lysithea’s unwillingness from the tension in her shoulders and the way she crosses her arms, unable to hold anyone’s gaze for long.

Lysithea steps towards Hubert and Edelgard, and with one last glance to Osric, she’s warped away to return to Enbarr.

* * *

One of the talents that was unearthed once Lysithea’s integration into the Emperor’s inner circle in Enbarr is her penchant for the written word.

While not formally Edelgard’s speech writer, Lysithea has, on numerous occasions, contributed to the drafts Edelgard showed her, and more often than not, Edelgard has taken Lysithea’s suggestions to heart.

It’s surprising, given Lysithea’s rather rash and brutal tongue, that she could be so eloquent and articulate, but considering how much she’s read, it’s only natural she’s picked up on the most effective styles of writing.

So, when it comes to planning the formal announcement of their engagement, Edelgard requests that Lysithea write the speech; the responsibility in anyone else’s hands would be troublesome, and would never yield the results Edelgard wants. Lysithea is the only one who knows the background of their relationship to write about it, and Edelgard cannot trust anyone else to maintain the image of their ruse faithfully.

Lysithea tries to distance herself from what she writes, to not let it affect her, but she knows that their ruse needs to be as believable as possible, so the image she must illustrate through her words must be so exquisite it obscures the fallacies within.

And so Lysithea writes exactly what she wants to hear, the words that would cause her heart to race, would consume her with the warmth of her passion, would make her feel weightless like a sigh. 

As the speech comes together, Lysithea notices the strength of the words she strings together, surprising even herself with the intensity behind them. She restrains herself from taking her quill and crossing out the words with such vigor it would tear the parchment, embarrassed by what she sees. She set out to write things most pleasing to her, but the passion in the final product astounds her when she thinks consciously of it. When did her emotions grow this strong, and when did she start needing to hear confessions and proclamations of love and devotion of this caliber— when did she start _ wanting _ a love like this for herself?

Even if she stops herself from shredding the parchment in front of her from the ferocity she wishes she could scratch ink over the words imprinted on the paper, she still knows she must start anew, for these words to ever leave Edelgard’s lips would be wholly uncharacteristic. The words must still carry Edelgard’s muted, reserved nature, instead of representing the hidden passions within Lysithea’s heart. Being faced again with everything she's written and now having to revise it is both mortifying to relive, and vaguely relieving to reword, knowing that the deepest extents of her fantasies won't be revealed.

Lysithea finishes the first draft— the first acceptable draft— and delivers it to Edelgard. She's glad Edelgard doesn't say anything upon reading it, but it also pains her. She knows better than to expect anything from Edelgard in that nature, but it still hurts, as if some part of her _ wants _Edelgard to suddenly rave about her writing, the beauty in the imagery and the labor behind every word, and to suddenly say she feels the same. 

The stress is getting to her. Lysithea feels faint from the way her mind and feelings play tricks on her.

Fortunately, they return back to House Ordelia soon enough, and Lysithea can get a brief moment of escape. She heads to the inner gardens, finds herself among the flowers, and sits on one of the white wicker chairs by the outdoor lounging area. She leans back against the chair and lets out a breath, closing her eyes. For once, she lets herself relax and abandon all responsibility and duty, for once figuring it best to clear her mind, lest she wishes for her thoughts to drive her insane. At least among the flowers, she can purge her mind of those strange tangents her mind leads her down.

She hears footsteps approach her, and Lysithea just lets out a sigh, though she hopes the few moments of relaxation she’s been afforded will make her composed enough for a conversation.

“Ah, there you are,” Voltemand’s voice greets her. Lysithea closes her eyes and relaxes; at least this conversation should be an easy one, since she can trust her father. “I hear you’ve spent much of today among the gardens. Have you missed them?”

“A little,” Lysithea says. “But I wasn’t in the gardens. I was in Enbarr.”

“Oh,” Voltemand sounds surprised. “But Osric said—”

“It was a cover, Father,” Lysithea says. “We had to make sure no one grew suspicious of our absence, so we used the outer gardens as a cover.”

“I understand,” Voltemand nods his head. “Am I allowed to ask the nature of your visit to Enbarr?”

Lysithea flashes a frown, mostly to herself more than Voltemand, especially considering Voltemand cannot see her face at his angle. “Of course you can. You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me. But… I can’t say this is news you’re going to enjoy.”

“What is it then, my dearest?” 

Lysithea lets out a breath, glancing off to the side. “The engagement got leaked by those who slither in the dark to see if we’re really here for the reasons we say we are. They forced our hand. We are going to have to announce it publicly.”

Voltemand’s silence causes Lysithea to turn her head to face him, and she frowns at the conflicted and concerned expression upon his features.

“Lysithea…” Voltemand begins uneasily, his voice solemn and heavy. “You are well aware of my trust in you, but I must ask… is this wise?”

Lysithea lowers her gaze, swallowing down the bile in her throat. “It’s our only choice if we wish not to incur those who slither in the dark’s wrath. We need to do this if we wish to stay here and put an end to this, for good.”

“It is not the strategy behind this decision that concerns me, Lysithea,” Voltemand shakes his head gently. “I am concerned about how this affects you.”

Lysithea opens her mouth to dissuade his concern, but the surprise from his words comes as a delayed reaction. To make matters worse, Lysithea doesn’t even know what to say, or how to say it. She doesn’t even truly understand the thoughts that run through her head— how can she explain it to someone else, especially her father?

“I…” Lysithea begins, and her voice drops to a whisper. “I wish this wasn’t a lie.”

Voltemand furrows his eyebrows out of confusion. “How do you mean?”

Lysithea shakes her head and lowers her gaze, feeling a gaping hole within her chest eat at her with a profound ache. “If something like this ever happened someday, and we came forward, I didn’t want… I don’t want it to be just a lie. I wish it were real.”

Voltemand clenches his jaw, rendered speechless by Lysithea’s words. “I…I’m sorry, Lysithea.”

“Don’t be,” Lysithea says, and with a sharp inhale, she stands up and brushes herself off, suddenly finding the gardens to be far too suffocating. “I know how far I’m willing to go to save us. This is nothing in the grand scheme of things.”

Lysithea then walks away with a heavy sigh, but she doesn’t get too far before her father stops her.

“Lysithea,” Voltemand says, and his voice is like a plea. He waits for Lysithea to stop, and when he continues, his voice is weak, though it feigns to be strong. “You shoulder so many of our family’s burdens. Please…allow me to return the favor, should you ever need to lessen what all you must carry. I want to be there for you, my little lamb. Allow me that much.”

Lysithea smiles weakly, but she turns away before long. “Thanks, Dad.”

But to her, it feels like her body only knows how to function under the weight of everyone’s burdens. 

She doesn’t even know where to begin to share that with someone else.

* * *

When Lysithea dresses for the announcement, she makes a pointed effort to avoid the color black.

After the admonishments she’s received before, she knows better than to try and wear it again lest she want another earful. She almost chooses to wear red to show her devotion to Adrestia, but she’s persuaded against it by Edelgard. Edelgard doesn’t want the announcement to look like Lysithea’s assimilated perfectly into Adrestia, but rather she still retains her own identity as a member of House Ordelia.

So Lysithea elects to wear her house’s color of lavender, and she ties her hair up, with a few strands left to frame her face, each side tied neatly together. She finishes getting ready quickly enough, and rather than stand in front of the mirror and face herself longer than she wishes to, she decides to seek Edelgard out before the announcement is set to begin.

Lysithea raps her knuckles against the door with a deep breath, and one of Edelgard’s outfitters answers it. Edelgard quickly dismisses the outfitters from the dressing chamber, already mostly dressed for the event.

Lysithea picks up where the outfitters left off, lacing up the back of Edelgard’s clothes. She tries to soldier through it, despite the way her fingers tremble and fumble slightly and the way her pulse quickens. From over Edelgard’s shoulder, Lysithea can see Edelgard reading the parchment containing her speech, as well as the small marks of ink changing some of the word choice in Edelgard’s handwriting. Lysithea feels her mouth go dry and she lowers her gaze to her hands, a wave of embarrassment washing over her to know Edelgard has read it multiple times and revised it.

Though she supposes that embarrassment is trite. Soon the whole nation will hear her words.

Surprisingly, Edelgard folds the parchment and sets it down and away, catching Lysithea’s attention.

“Don’t you need that?” Lysithea asks.

“I memorized it,” Edelgard says, and Lysithea damn near chokes on a cough from embarrassment. “Reading from paper would seem too detached. I have to look as if I’m speaking from the heart.”

Lysithea hangs her head and clears her throat to hide that shocked gasp that threatens to escape her lips. Of course, Edelgard would think it through so seamlessly like that. 

And Lysithea feels even more mortified to know the level of intimacy with her words Edelgard must have in order to have memorized them.

“Good thinking,” is all Lysithea can muster in response.

Edelgard turns her head and furrows her brow, though she cannot look over her shoulder at Lysithea. “Are you well?”

“It’s just nerves,” Lysithea lies. “Ignore me.”

“Nonsense,” Edelgard shakes her head, turning away. “It’s…It’s good to know I’m not alone.”

Lysithea doesn’t respond to that. Instead, she finishes lacing Edelgard’s clothes and tidies Edelgard’s outfit now that it’s complete. She looks up, becoming aware of the crown on Edelgard's head. She looks at Edelgard's reflection in the mirror, and she feels her lips tug into a frown. When Edelgard wears that crown, she looks resolute, powerful, and commanding. In that moment, Lysithea misses the earnestness of Edelgard without the crown, with her hair down, looking plain, simple, and vulnerable. Lysithea realizes she misses it deeply.

Edelgard leans forward to grab something off the vanity in front of her. “You know…” Edelgard begins, handing a necklace over her shoulder for Lysithea to take. “If it’s too much for you, we don’t have to do everything we discussed—”

“Don’t worry about that,” Lysithea says quietly, taking the necklace. She recognizes it as the one with the Ordelia ring on the chain. “This needs to look realistic. I’m prepared to do whatever it takes.”

A silence falls over them as Lysithea clasps the necklace around Edelgard’s neck, her fingers brushing against Edelgard’s skin. Lysithea can hear Edelgard draw in a sharp breath, and Lysithea takes a gentle, but firm grip of Edelgard’s shoulders.

“Whatever it takes,” Edelgard repeats.

Lysithea meets Edelgard’s gaze in the mirror, her hands upon Edelgard’s shoulders, her ring resting on a chain around Edelgard’s neck.

She wishes this whole thing weren’t a lie.

* * *

She thinks it’s probably for the best that she chooses not to pay attention during Edelgard’s speech.

There’s something twisted about handing Edelgard her deepest desires, the very depths of her heart on a sheet of parchment, and then have Edelgard recite it back to her, saying everything she wishes Edelgard would say to her, but to have Edelgard not mean a single word of what is said.

Lysithea would rather hear nothing at all than to hear everything she could have ever wanted in the breath of lies.

So Lysithea chooses not to listen, not to absorb the words that leave Edelgard’s mouth. But she knows the exact words Edelgard is saying.

She knows Edelgard is saying how important Lysithea’s presence had become to her over the course of the war, after Edelgard lost her mentor, after Lysithea stayed at her side to anchor her through everything.

She knows Edelgard is saying how Lysithea showed her what it felt like to need someone, to place a part of one’s heart in another, and that need to keep that fragment close. She is saying how she experienced the fear that comes in losing the part that has been given in someone else, and how deeply she needed Lysithea to continue to stand by her, to safeguard that piece of her heart, and to always keep it near.

She knows Edelgard is saying how that need drove her to act, resulting in her proposal. She is saying how she always thought she’d never marry out of her own desires, but now, under the new Fódlan, she doesn’t have to marry out of political reasons.

Lysithea knows Edelgard is saying this entirely unaware of how she holds that fragment of Lysithea’s heart inside of her.

A subtle squeeze at their joined hands grounds Lysithea from her thoughts, and she turns her head toward Edelgard, and judging by the last few words she says, Lysithea knows what follows.

They hoist their hands into the air to the celebratory cheers of the audience at the base of the palace’s steps, with Lysithea formally named as the future Empress and the betrothed to the current Emperor.

And as soon as their hands drop, Edelgard turns her head towards her, and Lysithea returns the gesture. She sees the staged smile upon Edelgard’s lips and the sincerity that her eyes lack. 

Lysithea’s expression requires no such staging. The fondness within it is all too natural, even if it is laced with a deep melancholy below the surface.

Edelgard then tugs at their joined hands, urging Lysithea closer. Lysithea takes that remaining step between them, watching as Edelgard’s eyes close before she closes her own, and soon Lysithea joins their lips, feeling the warmth of Edelgard’s lips against hers.

In those few moments when they hold the kiss, Lysithea can feel teardrops wet her eyelashes, and she dares to call upon the fallen goddess, praying that they do not shed and lay waste to their whole charade right then and there.

Because while Lysithea feels complete, to be joined with the other piece of her heart in that embrace, pouring the fullest extent of her heart into the kiss, Edelgard’s lips hold none of that same emotion. They’re distant and stiff, entirely unwilling to be pressed against Lysithea’s own. 

And Lysithea feels her heart truly shatter within her chest, a pain more profound than she’s ever experienced before.

To have Edelgard in front of her, kissing her, and to have it all be a lie hurts Lysithea more than she could have imagined.

Suddenly, the performance Lysithea’s had to put on no longer feels that way.

Because in a sea of lies, the depth of Lysithea’s feelings is unequivocally, unmistakably real.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lysithea tilts her chin upward in defiance, though her eyes are still widened and stunned. She swallows uncomfortably under the weight of her mother’s words, and she and Edelgard exchange a brief moment of startled eye contact. 
> 
> Nothing prepared them for something like this. Lysithea barely even knows where to begin to respond.

The trip back to the Ordelia estate is a heavy one, done in silence.

There is a silent mutual agreement and a need to not speak of the official announcement. The two of them reel from the events that transpired, but in different ways: Edelgard from the weight of lying to her people in a monumental step forward against those who slither in the dark, and Lysithea from the weight of her own longing, and every desire that now runs all too consciously throughout her mind.

Lysithea cannot even bring herself to look at Edelgard without being seized by oppressive feelings of fear, shame, and weakness. She feels as if she’s failed in her responsibility as part of this act, being so weak and pitiful that the feelings she was supposed to fake became so unbelievingly real. How can she bring herself to look Edelgard in the eye when she has been so weak and faint of heart to allow herself to succumb to these feelings? The shame doesn’t even sear her and brand her a fool as it should; instead, it’s a shrouding darkness within her, a most unpleasant miasma that poisons her when she gazes upon Edelgard and is faced with the accidental object of her desire. It eats at her, taunts her like a slow curse, something she is all too aware of killing her, but will not hurry the hell up and put an end to the damn thing already.

Lysithea finds herself sneering dryly.

Of course, her feelings of desire are just as much of a poison as her Crests. Everything in this world is a poison, a damnation.

Lysithea knows this, expects this, but the realization is just as debilitating.

When they return to the manor, Lysithea just wishes to be left alone, to run to her chambers and shut everyone out, needing the repose. But, as always, fate works against her, and any hopes for repose are dashed the moment they walk through the manor’s front doors.

“I have stilled my tongue for long enough. I cannot stand by and watch as everything falls apart in front of me any longer,” Rosalind shouts, marching toward the open doors, toward Lysithea and Edelgard and the party they bring. “Lysithea! I am _ not _ going to allow my daughter to marry this Empire _ scum_!”

Lysithea’s eyes shoot open in a mix of shock and fury, and she looks over at Edelgard, seeing how the abruptness of Rosalind’s comments have pierced through Edelgard’s usual composure, earning the same shocked look from her. 

“Mother!” Lysithea counters, finding her footing again. “How could you say such a thing?”

“I have kept my silence for appearances’ sake, but I have shown you enough courtesy now that I must speak,” Rosalind says. “I cannot believe you, Lysithea! How could you have chosen to wed someone from that evil, rotten country?!”

Lysithea tilts her chin upward in defiance, though her eyes are still widened and stunned. She swallows uncomfortably under the weight of her mother’s words, and she and Edelgard exchange a brief moment of startled eye contact. 

Nothing prepared them for something like this. Lysithea barely even knows where to begin to respond.

“Why wait until now to protest, Mother?” Lysithea sneers, almost failing to contain her anger. Her words teem with her shaky rage, though she does her best to restrain herself. “You’ve had weeks to revoke your blessing—so why wait until everything is already formal? You risk a diplomatic crisis with our house and the capital now by your actions!”

“Part of me prayed that you would come to your senses and call off this engagement while you were here—but I can see now that was a foolish wish of mine,” Rosalind lets out a burdened, agitated sigh. “I did not want to believe that you would betray our family like this and run off with an Adrestian noble—the _ Emperor_, at that!”

“Betrayal?!” Lysithea cannot hide the way her voice rises with incredulous disbelief. “How have I betrayed you—”

Osric inserts himself between Lysithea and Rosalind, lingering closer to Lysithea’s side. He rests a hand on Lysithea’s shoulder to try and quell her anger, hoping someone on her side would be able to get through to her. “Perhaps we should consider settling this in private chambers,” he says, clearing his throat uneasily. The harsh words exchanged between Lysithea and Rosalind already attract the eyes of the rest of Lysithea’s family, and a great deal of other servants.

Lysithea lets out a breath, letting Osric’s touch relax her and stepping closer to him with a nod. Yet it seems that brief moment of rest will be short lived, judging by the way Rosalind shakes her head at the two of them and sighs deeply.

“Why couldn’t you have married someone nice and respectable like Osric?” Rosalind says mournfully—wistful, even. “You two always got along so well… I truly thought you would be happy with someone like him, and you two would rule our territory into better days.”

Those words cause Lysithea and Osric to break apart from each other with a jolt, with Lysithea swiftly stepping away and Osric tearing his hand off of her. Osric’s head hangs low in embarrassment and shame, and Lysithea glances over at Edelgard, whose eyes read like she’s been threatened and undercut. The sheer emotion in them makes Lysithea wonder for a brief moment if Edelgard isn’t acting, but actually does feel that jealousy, but she forces that out of her mind as quickly as it enters. This isn’t the time for her distractions.

“Mother, that’s—” Lysithea clears her throat and shakes her head. “You cannot say something so inappropriate in front of my retainer _ and _ my fiancée! And I have made my choice, even if I didn’t choose the person _ you _ wanted for me!”

“Lady Rosalind, Lady Lysithea,” Osric meekly interrupts. “I urge you both to take this someplace private.”

Rosalind’s gaze snaps to Lysithea in that moment before she turns away swiftly on her heel. Lysithea returns the furious look and she takes Edelgard’s hand, bringing her along as she follows Rosalind.

“She can’t get away with this,” Lysithea whispers lowly to Edelgard. “She can’t say these things—”

“Lysithea, please, keep your anger in check,” Edelgard shakes her head.

“Are you really going to stand here and let her say such awful things about you? I for sure won’t allow it!” Lysithea counters. “Whatever she has to say, she can say to the both of us.”

“_P__lease_,” Edelgard warns. “Be careful.”

Rosalind leads the two of them to her and Voltemand’s chambers, with Voltemand joining them both inside. Osric opens the doors for the four of them, and as Lysithea enters the room, she reaches out and sets her hand on Osric’s shoulder in a lingering, comforting touch before he shuts the doors to leave the four of them on their own.

“My love, my dear Lysithea,” Voltemand addresses them both, attempting to pacify them before the argument resumes. “Please, be mindful of each other—”

“You’ve got some nerve, saying those awful things to Edelgard like that!” Lysithea growls, cutting her father off by pointing at Rosalind with the hand that was previously holding Edelgard’s. “Have you forgotten she is your guest?”

“A citizen of the Empire is no guest in my estate, and no less one of the royal family!” Rosalind shoots back. “Have you forgotten what the Empire has done to us, Lysithea? Have you forgotten your little sister, and your two little brothers? Have you forgotten all of your cousins, your other aunts and uncles, all of whom were _ killed _ by the ruthless, violent, _ beastly _ country you have chosen to marry into? Or do they not matter to you anymore, after you’ve been brainwashed by the very Emperor herself?”

“How could I ever forget?” Lysithea shakes her head incredulously, her expression hurt, yet unyielding. “But that was the old order, the likes of whom we have gone to great lengths to personally exterminate for the rot they’ve infected in Adrestia _ and _ this continent!”

“Countries do not change overnight, Lysithea!” Rosalind shouts. “And it was _ her _ family who ordered the slaughter of my brothers and sisters except for the one who was barely even old enough to read and write, who installed nobles who terrorized and killed all of my children, and who now dares to take the last living daughter I have from me!”

Lysithea quickly looks to Edelgard, whose jaw is tightly clenched, whose expression is pained, and whose eyes won’t rise from the ground despite the way her chin remains high. Lysithea looks back at Rosalind, feeling her anger spike to see Edelgard’s facade crack and reveal the wounds Rosalind’s words leave. “Edelgard was no older than Aunt Celia was then—you have no _ right _ to claim she is like them when she had nothing to do with that! You don’t get to use the ghosts of my siblings against her!”

Rosalind lets out a breath in disbelief, looking away and shaking her head weakly. When she looks back at Lysithea, any motherly care and love is devoid from her eyes, as if she’s gazing upon a stranger, filled with contempt. “So, this is your decision,” she says bitterly. “After everything, you choose the Emperor over your own flesh and blood. Is that not so?”

Lysithea freezes, her jaw tightening in protest. She steps closer to Edelgard’s side, reaching out for Edelgard’s hand again. From the way they stand, side by side, Lysithea and Edelgard’s arms are obscured behind the rest of their bodies, so their newly joined hands are hidden from Rosalind and Voltemand’s view.

She looks to meet Voltemand’s eye as he moves to set his hands on his wife’s shoulders to console her, and while he does not take a stance, there is a curiosity in his eyes to hear Lysithea’s true allegiance. Lysithea swallows, struggling to come to an answer.

Except she knows her answer, but her body wills her not to say it.

Because even though everything in her life, every decision she’s ever made, has hinged on her parents’ comfort and well-being, Lysithea would still follow Edelgard’s path, even if it diverges from her own family’s.

But Lysithea is not given the chance to voice her allegiance, because before she can speak, she feels a squeeze at her hand and feels Edelgard let go, stepping forward, no longer wishing to remain silent.

“Lady Rosalind,” Edelgard says, every ounce of effort audibly devoted to keeping her voice civil and level, “I recall you saying upon my arrival that you could not discern which white-haired woman was your daughter.”

Rosalind’s eyebrows furrow at Edelgard’s move closer, as well as her nonsensical diversion. “What of it?”

Edelgard lowers her gaze to the ground in a moment of weakness, insecurity, but she gathers her resolve and lifts her gaze readily to meet Rosalind’s own, determined and unwavering. “Have you ever wondered why a woman of my age would have the same color hair as your daughter?”

Rosalind continues to stare at Edelgard as if she were absurd, but suddenly her eyes widen from realization, and her whole demeanor begins to shift. “Impossible…”

Lysithea discovers Edelgard’s strategy just as quickly, and she reaches forward to take ahold of Edelgard’s sleeve. “Edelgard, you don’t have to—”

Edelgard sets her hand on Lysithea’s own and guides it off of her with a shake of her head. “No. This must be said.”

“Your Majesty,” Voltemand says in disbelief, “what is it that you are implying?”

“I cannot lie to you. Your accusations were correct. My family did order the arrest of House Ordelia and the eradication of half the noble family, as well as the installation of foreign agents to conduct horrific experiments upon your children. Every order was made by the hand of my uncle,” Edelgard says, her voice detached. “Everything that my uncle oversaw in House Ordelia, he would observe, refine, and replicate on me and my siblings after he stripped my father of all his power. Everything that happened here, was repeated upon House Hresvelg to create my uncle’s perfect heir to the throne: a weapon, and a puppet.”

“The tuberculosis outbreak that struck the royal family’s children…” Rosalind murmurs, still in shock. 

“A lie,” Edelgard answers. “They were all killed in the experiments. I was the sole ‘success,’ in his twisted view. And that I truly was. I played so perfectly into his plans without me even knowing, and to this day, I still cannot seem to escape from underneath my uncle’s thumb…”

“Edelgard…” Lysithea says gently, stepping forward to take her arm, feeling the way Edelgard trembles ever so slightly to recount the memories. 

“We are here because we know those villains have returned,” Edelgard says, addressing Rosalind directly. Her tone of voice carries the slightest inflection, the first hint that her composure is breaking. “I insisted on accompanying your daughter to your territory so that I could at least _ try _to rectify the horrors inflicted on House Ordelia by my family. I no longer wish to play the pawn of my uncle. I swear to you, Lady Rosalind, Count Voltemand, on my crown, on my honor, on my very life—I will do everything in my power to destroy those wretched creatures that took everything from you, that took everything from me, and that seek to wreak the same havoc on your family again. I do this not expecting your forgiveness or understanding, but just to provide you with some sort of solace that their threat on you and your family will finally be erased.”

Lysithea watches Edelgard as she speaks, her arms wrapped around Edelgard’s own, trying her hardest to impart any sort of comfort or reassurance through the touch. She can see the way that, Edelgard’s voice grows more and more emotional by the end, but she refuses to let herself break, even if her eyes glimmer with tears that will never drip from her eyes. 

“Your Majesty…” Rosalind begins weakly, stunned. “I…I had no idea…”

“I have gone to great lengths to ensure no one gets any ideas,” Edelgard shakes her head. “You couldn’t have known.”

“No one can know,” Lysithea says lowly, her gaze flitting between Rosalind and Voltemand. “About our past, about why we’ve returned, about any of it. We’ve worked too damn hard to have it be ruined now.”

Rosalind looks at her daughter, crestfallen and remorseful. “Lysithea, I’m so—” 

Lysithea shakes her head, her frustration still barely contained. “Now’s not the time. I have nothing to say to you.”

“Lysithea, please—” Rosalind pleads.

Lysithea can hear her father call for her as well, but she turns away, moving to leave. Even Edelgard tries to stop her, trying to catch Lysithea’s hand as she pulls away, but she’s just a moment too slow before Lysithea slips from her grasp.

Lysithea pushes the doors open and steps out at a brisk enough pace to set enough distance between her and everyone else. As soon as she rounds a corner, she finds Osric further down the hall, and Lysithea closes her eyes for a brief moment and lets out a sigh of sheer relief. Osric approaches her, and Lysithea walks straight up to him, throwing her arms around his neck and burying herself in his arms in an embrace, rejoicing in her only ally and respite from the difficult politics and emotions from her family and Edelgard.

“I need space,” Lysithea murmurs into his chest, her eyes closed, and for the first time in a while, a feeling of genuine ease courses through her to have his arms wrapped around her. “Don’t tell anyone where I am for a while.”

Osric is taken off-guard by the sudden embrace, but he relaxes and returns it within seconds, setting his one hand on the back of her head. “High ground?” he asks for confirmation, and when Lysithea nods against his chest, he holds her a little tighter. “I’ll make sure everyone keeps away.”

“Thank you,” Lysithea breathes in relief. She pulls back after a moment and gives Osric’s arms a slight squeeze in appreciation before she steps away.

Once she’s to herself, Lysithea closes her eyes and sighs, trying to disauge the residual anger in her veins. She finds it’s easier said than done, and she just hopes a few moments undisturbed will help her, even just slightly.

* * *

It’s been years since Lysithea’s watched the sun set over Ordelia territory.

From the balcony at the back of the manor, Lysithea oversees the inner gardens, as well as the lines where the outer gardens blend into the bigger sphere of nature. Lysithea sits on the stone railing and enjoys how close she can get to the view of nature, knowing full well her magic helps keep her upright and won’t let her fall. 

Most people don’t think to look for her there, always assuming she would retreat to her room or the libraries or even the kitchens for solace. But there’s something about the vast world, the openness of nature, even the reach of the starry skies that comforts Lysithea, knowing that everyone else in this world is small, barely a speck in the grand scheme of things.

It makes things a bit easier knowing that she isn't the only one who will be short-lived in this world, and that everyone in comparison to the stars lives and dies in the blink of an eye.

She doesn’t know how long she’s spent up there, only that it’s been long enough to remove her mind from the events that happened that day and reorient herself elsewhere, but her absence must be concerning, because she starts to hear footsteps join her.

“So, this is where you’ve made off to,” and it’s unmistakably Edelgard’s voice; Lysithea could almost identify her off the footsteps alone. “Forgive me for the intrusion. I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

A part of Lysithea’s heart flinches to face Edelgard now in one of the most tumultuous periods of Lysithea’s life, but another part thaws and melts at the consideration—consideration for _ her_, something reserved for so few in Edelgard’s life. And Lysithea curses herself for getting so caught up in those implications and the meanings of things, and she tries to distance herself from reading too far into every little thing Edelgard does as if she’s searching for something.

She knows full well what she’s searching for, and she knows full well the answer that awaits her. But it is still not enough to stop Lysithea on that futile search.

“I’m safe,” Lysithea says, glancing over her shoulder at Edelgard. “You don’t have to worry.”

“Truthfully, I wasn’t at first. I figured you needed your space,” Edelgard says. “But when Osric approached me with his own concern after how long you were gone, I had to make sure you were alright.”

Lysithea slowly turns her head away, staring down at the ground three stories below her feet. She lets out an empty hum, losing herself to her thoughts.

“I won’t tell anyone of your secret place,” Edelgard breaks the silence, sensing Lysithea’s unease. “Osric told me of its importance to you.”

“Thank you,” Lysithea says quietly, and her words do come as a relief to know Edelgard understands.

“Do not fault him too much for telling me where you were. I only wished to check on you, and now I won’t overstay my visit. Just return when you can,” Edelgard says, and Lysithea can hear her turn away.

That spurs Lysithea to spin around on the balcony railing and to push herself off, and she walks closer to Edelgard once grounded again. “Stay with me.”

Her words are a thinly-veiled plea for Edelgard’s companionship, and Lysithea is fortunate enough to not have to beg any further. Edelgard turns again, flashing Lysithea a short smile and joining her at the rail. Once Edelgard’s with her, Lysithea looks off the balcony again, staring off into the expanses of nature illuminated by the dimming sun. She sets her hands on the rails, standing as close as she can to Edelgard’s side to appear natural, yet to still feel that rush of warmth and relief to be in her presence.

“I’m sorry for running off,” Lysithea says quietly after a short silence, her gaze low. “I should’ve checked up on you too, after what my family put you through. I’m sorry.”

“You needn’t apologize, Lysithea,” Edelgard responds with a shake of her head. “I can handle myself.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to handle it alone,” Lysithea says. A question lingers at the tip of her tongue, and she wonders if she’d be rewarded with the honesty of Edelgard’s answer. “Was that the first time you’ve told someone what happened?”

Edelgard shakes her head, letting out a deep breath to steel herself. She doesn’t look Lysithea’s way. “No. This must be my third time admitting it, after Hubert and the professor.”

Lysithea nods slowly, and she looks at Edelgard with saddened eyes that carry so much more than just empathy. “I am so sorry for what was said to you, and for what my mother made you do.”

“I cannot fault her,” Edelgard frowns, her jaw clenching tight. “If I were in her place, I would hate Adrestia too, beyond just the ones responsible. Tell me, how did Celia survive out of the rest of her siblings?”

Lysithea lets out a soft sigh, defeated but not surprised at the way Edelgard shifts the conversation. “Because my father was an only child, when my mother married into the family, she brought her brothers and sisters with her to fill out the ranks of the house following the prior generation’s retirement. Celia is barely older than you are, and she was still in my grandparents’ care as a child when we were subjected to those who slither in the dark’s tyranny.”

“She’s my age, you say?” Edelgard repeats, intrigued. “She carries herself older than that.”

“So do you,” Lysithea counters. “That, and she’s had to grow up fast to take over some of the responsibility once no one was left to take it. But even that’s taking its toll on her. I once asked her if she wanted to take over the territory in my place so I could avoid handing it over to another lord, but she told me she would rather see me get rid of this land as quickly as possible than for her to be the Count.”

Edelgard nods her head. “I see. That explains why everything falls to you, then,” she falls silent for a moment. “What a heavy burden.”

“You’re telling me,” Lysithea grunts, hanging her head. For a moment, she stares at the railing and her hands, feeling a wave of stress shoot through her and tense all of her muscles. She lets out a burdened sigh and looks to Edelgard, needing her assurance. “I don’t know what to do, Edelgard. I told my parents from day one that I wished to restore this land to hand it off to someone else so we could live lives without the annoyance of nobility, but now my mother tells me she wants me to marry and rule this territory. Everything I’ve planned for the sake of my parents, they’re telling me they don’t want. I feel lost.”

Edelgard blinks and straightens her posture, thinking it over for a moment. “I think you would make a fine Count, Lysithea,” she says, and she even spares Lysithea a brief glance out of the corner of her eye. “From my time here, I’ve been able to witness firsthand how everyone views you as their pride and joy. Even at the capital, when the regular people were invited for the announcement, I could see the hope they’ve placed in you as the next visionary for their land. Your work in Enbarr on reforms has gained the attention and respect of the whole continent, and I know you could bring this land to prosperity.”

Lysithea watches Edelgard speak, her heart equally torn between euphoria at Edelgard’s endless praises and a heartbreak at the suggestion. The heartbreak proves to be the stronger of the emotions, and a frown pulls at Lysithea’s lips, and she looks at Edelgard rather miserably. “So, that is what you wish for me?”

“I…” Edelgard trails off, speaking before she properly found her words. She takes a second to reorganize herself, and then she speaks again, “I only wished to say you would have nothing to be afraid of if that is what you choose for yourself.” 

“I would never choose it, Edelgard,” Lysithea says, and despite the firmness of her decision, her voice is gentle. “I know where I want to be, and…and that’s not here.”

Edelgard looks to Lysithea, her surprise enough to finally bring her to face her. “What better where is there to find?”

_ With you_, Lysithea bites her lip, barely able to contain the words she wishes to shout from that very balcony. She composes herself to provide a more dignified answer. “I want to stay in Enbarr, where I can do more good for more people.”

It seems as if Edelgard won’t see an end to her surprise for a little while longer. “Is that true, Lysithea?”

Lysithea nods, unwavering. “If you’ll have me.”

“And I always will,” Edelgard says, though she shakes her head in disbelief, blinking a few times. “I just never expected… Your motivation has always lied with your family. I never thought you would choose to stay at Enbarr, unless you were obligated to.”

“This isn’t a matter of obligation. It’s a matter of happiness,” Lysithea says, and her words soften when she continues speaking, where even despite the nerves and the amount of courage it takes to muster to admit, her voice carries only sincerity. “And the place where I feel the happiest is with you.”

Edelgard stares at Lysithea through a cracked facade, the surprise showing fully in her expression. Yet it’s still gentle, a rare glimpse into that other side to Edelgard, a glimpse that not even their ruse provides. Her lips part and her eyes widen for the briefest of moments before Edelgard reins herself in, and to reverse the situation and stun Lysithea into silence, when Edelgard composes her expression, she doesn’t return to the facade. Instead, she just smiles, allowing Lysithea to view one of the truest, most genuine gateways into what Edelgard feels.

“I don’t think you know how much it always means to me to have your companionship,” Edelgard says, a light breath of a laugh passing through her lips as she lowers her gaze. “You refuse to see me for just my crown or my position and it’s such a…relief. I can’t even begin to express how grateful I am to have someone to see me as a person first, and everything else, second.”

Lysithea’s posture grows more rigid, and she clenches her jaw, feeling her mouth run dry to be deemed only a companion. She does manage to soften and relax a little, realizing how momentous it is to have Edelgard share her true feelings with her, and to voice how much she appreciates what they have, even if it isn’t in the exact nature Lysithea wishes it would be.

But she cannot, will not be selfish. Because it means the world to her to have Edelgard just say she values Lysithea too.

“I never took an oath of loyalty to the Empire, or even to the crown,” Lysithea confesses. “I only ever swore fealty to you, for what you believe in and for what you wish to achieve. My gratitude and devotion to you has only ever been personal. Never once has it been about your status.”

Edelgard lets out another quiet laugh, her eyes falling closed. “Gratitude? I fear you give me too much credit.”

Lysithea shakes her head, refusing to relent on this. “If I never had you, I would be aimless and lost in my last years of life, at the end of my rope and motivation. You gave me a new reason to push forward, so I could help others, and one day maybe even be able to save myself. You showed me what hope is, Edelgard. For that I will always be grateful.”

Edelgard lifts her gaze to meet Lysithea’s own, and Lysithea uses every ounce of strength not to budge, to remain strong under the weight of Edelgard’s gaze. Lysithea can see the way that, though the surprise in her eyes, Edelgard is searching for something, clarity, and Lysithea swallows uncomfortably. While she doesn’t regret what she’s said, Lysithea won’t speak clearly on the motivation behind her words, unable to bring herself to share the true weight behind them.

Even through the cloud of uncertainty between them, Edelgard cannot help but see the sincerity behind every word Lysithea says, and she soon puts an end to her search, finding herself to be content with what she has in front of her. “I’m glad you are keeping your promise to never stop fighting for your life.”

Lysithea shakes her head. “I don’t want to lose what I have.”

And Edelgard smiles, a warmth to her eyes Lysithea is not used to seeing. “Neither do I. I would miss you rather terribly if you left me.”

Feeling a rush of courage and bravery, mixed with an inescapable need, come over her, Lysithea steps closer and takes Edelgard gently by the shoulder, pulling her in for a hug. She closes her eyes, and when Edelgard returns the embrace, she can feel her heart throb and ache in her chest in a combination of ecstasy and desire. 

“I don’t ever plan on leaving,” Lysithea whispers, holding Edelgard close. “Remember that.”

Edelgard nods, allowing herself the indulgence to rest her chin on Lysithea’s shoulder, ceding her control and letting down her walls and resistance. “I will.”

“Edelgard,” Lysithea says, her arms tightening around her. “I need you to be honest with me.”

When her only response is silence and the sensation of Edelgard tensing in her arms, Lysithea lets out a soft sigh, a plea. “Please.”

“Alright,” Edelgard breathes in a whisper. “You’ll have my honesty.”

“Are you okay after what happened today?” Lysithea asks quietly.

Edelgard lets out a deep breath that she tries, yet uncharacteristically fails to mask. “I’m better,” she admits. “And I’ll recover within time.”

“I’m here for you,” Lysithea says, and she can feel Edelgard’s fingertips curl into her back at those words.

“And you?” Edelgard asks, pulling away after a pause, though she is unable to meet Lysithea’s gaze. Her touch lingers on Lysithea’s arms, still holding onto them when she pulls back from the embrace. “I…want to be there for you too.”

Lysithea doesn’t hear a voice of restraint when she reaches out, her fingers gently guiding some strands of Edelgard’s hair out of her face. Instead, it just feels right, seeing Edelgard without the mask, without the crown, looking normal and painfully within Lysithea’s reach. “You already have been. I feel a lot better because you were here with me.”

Edelgard cannot find the words to respond, so instead she offers a gentle squeeze to Lysithea’s arms and nods her head.

Lysithea flashes a smile, feeling a fluttering warmth spread through her chest. No voice appears even now to stop her, and she lifts her chin, standing a little taller on her toes to press a light kiss to Edelgard’s forehead, tender and soft. When she pulls away, a small fear keeps her from opening her eyes immediately, but when she does, Lysithea can see that same unhindered awe and surprise in Edelgard’s expression, complete with the faintest hint of red across her nose and cheeks.

“Thank you,” Lysithea whispers, sparing Edelgard one last look before she turns away and moves to leave.

She can tell that now Edelgard is the one who needs to spend time alone on the balcony, based on the lack of footsteps that follow hers. As the events of the day replay in her mind, Lysithea combs over every small detail despite that voice returning to tell her not to. Lysithea chooses to see something within Edelgard’s actions, all of her consideration, her devotion, her attempts to reach out, and even that lingering grip on her arms after the hug. That blush that dusted so beautifully across Edelgard’s nose ignites a hope within Lysithea that hadn’t existed before, and now burns inside of her.

But Lysithea recognizes the danger of such a hope, one far too different from the hope for the future Edelgard otherwise brings her.

So much lies on that hope, either a lifetime of happiness, or a lifetime of disappointment and misery. Lysithea can’t even truly account for the veracity of what she witnessed, with their conversation upon the balcony too wracked with other emotions from the events earlier in the day. And the biggest danger lies in looking in places unlikely to yield answers and somehow finding them, because Lysithea can’t tell if they’re real, or if they’re illusions that her mind crafts for her to see, knowing it would inspire her.

Lysithea falls asleep before Edelgard joins her, her mind exhausted from running every possibility and from fixating on her feelings for Edelgard.

And for once, Lysithea sees sleep as a respite rather than the gateway to nightmares, freed from the thoughts which haunt her waking moments.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lysithea knows this pleasure is only ephemeral, a fleeting moment of indulgence in otherwise business and obligation, and she and Edelgard are both toeing a dangerous line between their ruse and reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **content warnings: moderate depictions of violence, death, blood** in the first half of the first section, **sexual & suggestive content** in the second half of the first section, and **suggestive dialogue** past the first line break

It’s the first time they both target the same servant at once, and Lysithea wonders why she hasn’t tried this sooner, because they needn’t even tie him up or restrain him to force him to submit. Their presence alone renders the man powerless.

The man’s age also makes him less likely to resist, given the strands of grey and white that grow within his hair. He disguised himself as one of the workers in finances, though Lysithea and Edelgard saw through his disguise and cornered him.

Now, they press for answers, stowed away in one of the finance offices, the Agarthan mage seated at his own desk while Lysithea and Edelgard surround him.

“Someone here has to know something, and everyone else here is clueless as to the real reasons behind your stationing here,” Lysithea says, inching closer to the desk. She sets her hand atop the surface, leaning closer, a scowl upon her features. “Tell me—you look like a man who’s high up in the pecking order. You must know _ something_.”

“I’m afraid I’m only carrying out orders,” the Agarthan replies, a tight-lipped smile curving his lips. “I am not privy to the reasons why.”

“Tell us, and we’ll let you live,” Edelgard grunts in a low voice, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Wouldn’t I be too much of a threat to leave alive? I could ruin your plans within seconds, and all it takes is me contacting our stronghold to have this territory obliterated.”

“You wouldn’t _ dare_!” Lysithea growls, slamming her fist on the desk.

“Easy,” Edelgard warns, though her gaze doesn’t move off of the Agarthan in front of her. “You either live and tell us what you know, or you share the same fate as the rest of your kind and perish. The decision is yours. Do not fault us when we have extended our hands in cooperation, even when it sickens us to our very flesh and bones to show mercy to someone as wretched as you.”

The Agarthan leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows upon the desk, lifting his gaze to meet Lysithea’s own. He flashes her a sly grin, and Lysithea feels sick to her stomach to see it. “Ah, yes… I do seem to remember something now.”

“Then speak,” Edelgard orders in a low voice.

“I remember you,” he says, staring at Lysithea, “I remember the way you writhed in pain while the rest of those little infants had already become failures, dying to their Crests almost instantly, yet you...you were the only one strong enough to survive.”

Lysithea’s eyes shoot wide in a rapid surge of rage, and she bares her teeth and grabs the Agarthan by his neck, yanking him closer as her other hand becomes engulfed by flames, reeled back to unleash the scorching prowess of her magic at any second. “What was that, you dog?!” she growls, the very flames of her hands reflected in the burning rage of her eyes. “Do you wish for me to burn you alive?”

“What is the meaning of this?” Edelgard spits out, but she doesn’t intervene. “What do you know?”

Even in such a compromising position, the Agarthan still smiles wickedly. “You were our only success out of that round of experiments. It’s a shame, you were almost perfect, but we had to try again with the royal family. You were too weak to be of any use to us. You might as well have died with the rest of your siblings and cousins with how worthless you became…”

“I’ll have you hanged for every monstrocity you’ve committed against House Ordelia and the royal family!” Edelgard shouts. “Speak now, or die at the scaffold!”

“Hanged?” Lysithea scoffs cruelly, glancing at Edelgard as the fire extinguishes around her hand. “I’d rather pluck out his eyes for everything he’s done!”

“Our plans will succeed regardless if I live or die. I’m only a planted agent,” the Agarthan shakes his head and laughs. “Our only objective is to keep the current Emperor in line by any means necessary.”

“Current?” Edelgard repeats, stepping closer. “Mean you to say you plan to install someone else on the throne?”

“And why target _ my _ family?” Lysithea growls.

“Because we know how to make the Emperor weak,” the Agarthan’s arrogant manner subsides, and he reaches into his breast pocket to brandish a knife. Lysithea reacts quickly and anticipates the incoming swing, but she cannot separate herself from him fast enough, suffering a cut across the skin of her neck as she staggers backward, gritting her teeth with a sharp grunt of pain. 

Edelgard’s composure vanishes and she seizes the Agarthan by the wrist in an instant, her Crest of Seiros activating as she twists his arm and deprives him of his knife. When she lets go and he reels backward, clutching his arm in pain, Edelgard vaults over the desk and lands beside him, bringing him to a swift end by a blow to his head.

Lysithea squeezes her one eye shut in a wince, clasping her hand over the cut across her throat. The growl that passes through her sneered lips stems more from frustration at receiving such a wound compared to the actual pain of it. 

Edelgard turns to face Lysithea once a gruff breath expels her body of its adrenaline and anger, and concern flashes upon her expression as she walks closer to her, seeing the blood that trickles through Lysithea’s fingers and down her chest. She strips herself of her vest and bunches up the fabric so she can cover the wound and stop the blood loss. “Hold this firmly against the wound, I’ll get help—”

“Let me handle it,” Lysithea says in a raspy voice, and she lifts her hand off the cut. Both her hands alight with a bright green glow, and she grits her teeth, focusing her magic towards the wound. Her fingers tremble and clench from the amount of power and energy channeled through them, but the wound gradually closes until it resembles a mere scratch, though she can heal it no further.

“You can heal yourself with your magic?” Edelgard asks, intrigued, but her voice fluctuates with the concern from before not yet wearing off.

“Not fully, and not without using nearly all of my power,” Lysithea lets out a shaky breath, “but yes, I’ve figured out how to cast it on myself.”

“If this were any other time, I’d tell you how you continue to astound me every day with what you can do, but that can wait,” Edelgard says, and she wraps her arm around Lysithea’s waist to keep her stable. “I don’t want you exerting yourself any further.”

Lysithea reaches behind her, her hand glowing with white magic so she can warp away the body. After the spell, she leans more into Edelgard’s side, but she toughs it out and forces herself to present well. “I’m fine. Let’s just get back now before it gets any worse.”

Edelgard hands off her vest so Lysithea can hide the stained front of her clothes, and as soon as Lysithea puts it on, she lets out a soft noise to be swept off her feet and into Edelgard’s arms. 

“Absolutely not,” Lysithea protests with a huff. “Put me down, you moron.”

“Hold onto me. It’ll hide the rest of the blood if we get spotted. I’ll pretend you are asleep,” Edelgard says.

Lysithea shoots her a glare, weak and empty, before she wraps her arms around Edelgard’s neck and bitterly settles in close, muttering all the while. Fortunately, they return to Lysithea’s chambers unnoticed, and Lysithea quickly worms herself out of Edelgard’s arms once they’re inside, trying to ignore that pounding sensation in her chest. She moves to the washroom so she can clear off the blood from her neck, and she checks to see how large the wound that remains is. It only looks like a small cut, barely even a centimeter long and incredibly thin, but the red of the cut contrasts starkly with the pale white of her skin. It’s noticeable, and Lysithea does not want people asking questions.

When Lysithea leaves the washroom, Edelgard immediately looks up and steps closer to check on the injury. 

“How is it?” Edelgard asks.

“Just a nuisance,” Lysithea mumbles. “It’s too visible, and none of my clothes have collars high enough to cover it.”

Edelgard nods her head slowly, her expression pensive as she tries to think of some sort of solution. “Would you be able to cover it with makeup powder?”

Lysithea scrunches her nose. “I wouldn’t want to put powder into a fresh cut…”

Edelgard doesn’t respond to that, she only stares at Lysithea’s neck, her knuckles lingering in front of her lips as she wracks her mind for any ideas. “Have you anything better in mind?”

Drawing in a breath, Lysithea glances off to the side and tries to think of ways to hide the mark, or to at least distract from it. The distraction, plus her mind’s use of the word ‘mark’ embeds an idea in Lysithea’s head, and immediately Lysithea scowls to herself and closes her eyes, pinching her nose in exasperation.

“What?” Edelgard asks, and of course she has to voice her curiosity towards Lysithea’s actions. “Did you think of something?”

Lysithea hates that she asks and puts her in this awful position. “Let me think of something else…”

“No, let’s hear it,” Edelgard says innocuously.

Lysithea lets out a sigh, steeling herself for the words she’s about to say, knowing full well the circumstances that will follow saying such a thing. “If we can’t cover it with makeup, we could cover it with another mark that people will be less willing to stare at so we can keep them from looking any closer.”

Edelgard furrows her brow in confusion, searching Lysithea’s expression for clarification. Her eyebrows raise again when she begins to catch on, but she doesn’t fully let herself believe it until she hears it from Lysithea herself.

“It plays in with our ruse,” Lysithea says in a defeated voice, shaking her head and closing her eyes. “But I’m sure you’d rather not have to do that, so let me think of something else, maybe some sort of excuse we can use…”

“Do you think it’ll work?” Edelgard asks, her gaze fluttering about as she straightens out her posture.

“The marks?” Lysithea asks, and when Edelgard nods, Lysithea slowly nods in return. “Everyone would look away out of courtesy and embarrassment, especially my family.”

“Then I’ll do it,” Edelgard says, looking up to meet Lysithea’s eye with a deep exhale.

Lysithea blinks from surprise. “But… there’s implications behind this, they’ll start assuming—”

“They already think we’re engaged, Lysithea. Who knows what they already assume of us now,” Edelgard shakes her head with a defeated voice. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. This is simply what must be done to protect our cover.”

“Right,” Lysithea swallows uneasily, nodding her head. A pit of dread wells within her stomach, and she stands still, uncertain, unknowing of what will next unfold.

Edelgard, in the moments neither of them move nor speak, eventually steps forward, and she reaches for Lysithea’s hair draped over her shoulders. She gently gathers the hair and moves it out of the way of Lysithea’s neck, and she soon guides her hands to rest on Lysithea, one on her shoulder, and the other cradling her jaw.

When Edelgard seems to freeze in that position, Lysithea reaches up and places her hands over Edelgard’s own to ease her away. “Don’t worry about it, we’ll think of something else—”

“Stop,” Edelgard says, letting out a shaky exhale. “I only hesitate because I’m unsure of how exactly to…”

Lysithea nods her head understandingly when Edelgard trails off, biting down on her lip. “Just draw as much blood to the surface as you can.”

Edelgard’s eyes return to Lysithea’s neck, and she visibly prepares herself before she leans in, and seconds later Lysithea can feel a pair of soft lips pressing to her neck, and Lysithea’s eyes flutter shut as a soft breath passes through her own lips. The touch is so soft and gentle, and Lysithea feels a wave of bliss wash over her, yet she knows this is not going to yield any progress.

“Harder,” Lysithea coaches, praying Edelgard doesn’t notice the way she swallows nervously. “You won’t leave a mark that way.”

Edelgard pulls away for a moment, and Lysithea wonders if she’s decided it’s too much to continue, but suddenly the grip on her shoulder tightens and the hand on her jaw pulls her closer, and Edelgard’s lips return with more vigor, and she can feel the way Edelgard now sucks unabashedly on the skin of her neck, almost goading out a gasp from Lysithea’s lips.

“Good girl,” Lysithea says in a restrained, breathy whisper, setting her hand on the back of Edelgard’s head to keep her fixed in place. “Just like that, sweetheart.”

Edelgard’s lips work harder against Lysithea’s skin at the praise, and Lysithea squeezes her eyes tightly shut, her lips parting, revealing her gritted teeth. Her expression almost looks pained, but it’s the extent of Lysithea’s willpower being devoted to restraint and silence that causes Lysithea to look so tormented, thrusted into this position that she’s secretly longed for, but to only have it be a matter of business.

She can hardly keep herself composed when Edelgard toys at the skin of her neck with her teeth, and then Lysithea has to stop herself from throwing her head back in pleasure when she feels Edelgard’s tongue gloss over the expanse of skin she nipped at, soothing it over. 

Edelgard pulls back to assess her work after that, but before Lysithea can get a word out to ask if she’s succeeded at leaving a mark, she’s cut off by an unsuspecting gasp leaving her lips when Edelgard’s lips find another spot on Lysithea’s neck, closer to her pulsepoint, eliciting such a loud response from the suddenness and unexpectedness of Edelgard’s actions.

Lysithea pushes Edelgard back once she regains her senses, stunned beyond belief, barely able to see Edelgard through the stars that still linger in her vision from the intoxicating return of Edelgard’s lips upon her neck. “What are you doing?” she stammers, speechless.

“Just one mark won’t be convincing enough,” Edelgard responds, and Lysithea sees the strangest glint in her eye, something she’s never seen before.

A dilemma flashes in front of Lysithea’s eyes to let it continue, to let herself be mocked by Edelgard’s affections even further, or to indulge in what she can get, even if it is insincere. Her desire rules above her reason, and she nods and pulls Edelgard closer, resting her hand on the back of her head again to keep her close. 

The noviceness of Edelgard’s actions fade with each passing moment, with Edelgard growing bolder and more daring as she goes on. She lets her teeth graze Lysithea’s skin more often, sucking relentlessly at her neck to spawn as many marks as she conceivably can, with an eagerness Lysithea never expects. Lysithea doesn’t attempt to contain the quiet moans that gather in her throat, instead she merely leans her head back and lets the sounds escape her, breathing soft praises as Edelgard improves and surely leaves bigger, and better marks over her neck.

“Good girl,” Lysithea repeats in an airy voice, and she swears she finally knows true euphoria when she can feel the rumble of a moan from Edelgard’s own lips against her neck in response.

After far too much time passes with Edelgard devoting herself to marking Lysithea’s neck, Edelgard finally pulls away, seemingly returning to her senses after losing herself in the process of it all. Edelgard’s eyes remain trained on Lysithea’s neck, assessing the dark blotches and bruises across her neck and collarbone, faced with the very marks she made upon her, seeing her success. When Edelgard glances up at Lysithea’s visage, her gaze doesn’t immediately rise to Lysithea’s own, rather it stops at Lysithea’s lips first before rising fully, and when Lysithea sees Edelgard’s eyes, she’s faced with that same glint, though increased tenfold.

Lysithea, keeping their eyes locked, steps closer again and sets her hand upon Edelgard’s cheek, overcome with a bravery and desire stronger than she’s ever felt before, urged on by that pool of darkness within Edelgard’s eyes. 

“I won’t allow myself to be the only one with these marks out there,” Lysithea says in a low voice, never once looking away from Edelgard’s eyes. “We can’t have people getting the wrong impression about me, no?”

“It’ll be more convincing,” Edelgard tells Lysithea, though she says it more like she’s merely justifying it to herself.

Lysithea nods her head, and her hands move to unbutton the high-rise collar of Edelgard’s blouse. She manages to show some restraint and consideration by only unbuttoning three buttons, exposing only what she needs to leave the same marks on Edelgard’s skin. Lysithea quickly, readily dives in to latch her lips to Edelgard’s bare neck, closing her eyes and basking in the sheer _ relief _ of being able to do as she’s craved for so long. The pleasure that washes over her to be able to kiss Edelgard’s skin far outweighs that which she felt when Edelgard was touching her, with Lysithea reveling in the chance to bite at the skin, tease it, and mark it up as she so pleases. The satisfaction to hear Edelgard’s ragged breaths and to feel her arm snake around her waist to keep her close fills Lysithea completely, letting her ride out a thrill and a fantasy she thought she’d never come close to fulfilling.

Edelgard contains any noise as best as she can, but she tilts her head back and cranes her neck, encouraging Lysithea to continue. Lysithea indulges, allows herself as much as she can, ravished by the way that, despite the obligation to use this as a cover for their ruse, she seems to be filling Edelgard with that very same pleasure she felt when their positions were reversed. She wishes she could do this forever, to have her lips on Edelgard and to mark and explore every bit of her skin, to make her feel as good as she currently is, to be able to have Edelgard as hers to please and cherish. 

But she knows this pleasure is only ephemeral, a fleeting moment of indulgence in otherwise business and obligation, and she and Edelgard are both toeing a dangerous line between their ruse and reality. 

Lysithea suddenly becomes seized with a fear that Edelgard will come to her senses and realize how far they’ve strayed from their original purpose. The singular hickey that was meant to be left over Lysithea’s cut suddenly multiplied into a handful, and now Lysithea is working to leave the same marks on Edelgard’s body despite no injury to hide. The two of them got swept up in the heat of the moment, and Lysithea starts to fear when and if Edelgard will ground herself again, and if that means Lysithea would be left out in the open, her feelings and desires bared by the way she carried herself, letting herself cross all those lines because of her uncontrollable craving for a physical connection with the woman who stands in front of her.

Lysithea slows in her ministrations, her lips pressing a soft kiss over the bruised skin on Edelgard’s neck before she uses every ounce of her willpower to tear herself away despite every desire to explore Edelgard’s body further. She lifts her gaze to meet Edelgard’s eyes, taunted by that glistening of want in those lavender eyes, and Lysithea gulps to regain her composure. Yet she fails, and her eyes drop to Edelgard’s parted lips, and Lysithea’s body aches and screams for her to lean forward and capture those lips in a searing kiss, longing for that connection she so lusts for.

But Lysithea doesn’t yield. While she cannot hold her ground, she can certainly run. She knows how to do it well.

“There,” Lysithea pants, stepping away from Edelgard. “I need to wash off the rest of the blood. It soaked through my clothes.”

Edelgard doesn’t respond. She only nods and steps back as well, dazed, her mind foggy and unclear. 

Lysithea wastes no time in heading to the washroom and running a bath, sure to make the water a lower temperature to cool off her burning skin, completely flushed and red. She sheds her bloodied, bothersome clothing and sinks into the cool water, wishing it could jolt her out of the way her mind runs rampant with desire. Yet even the water cannot quell those thoughts and the cravings she has, so Lysithea has to rely on herself to extinguish that fire manually.

Her hand doesn’t shrink away this time when it dives beneath the surface and lands in between her legs. Instead, Lysithea presses the knuckles of her free hand to her lips and closes her eyes, letting the fresh memories of her lips over Edelgard’s skin finish the job, leading her to a lonely, imperfect release.

With the shame that follows, Lysithea drains the bath and dries herself off, returning to her chambers after. She tries to avoid even so much as glancing at Edelgard, but when she hears Edelgard’s heavy breaths, she quickly glances her way to see her laying on her back in the bed with an arm over her forehead, her cheeks flushed and the marks on her neck in full view. Lysithea hates what such an image does to her, so she forces herself to look away and remove it from her mind, even if she isn’t fully successful.

When Lysithea lays in the bed, she makes a point to stay as closely to her side as possible, turned away from Edelgard, unable to even look at her.

Sleep doesn't greet her easily that night, and when it finally does, her dreams aren’t quite exactly pleasant.

* * *

The marks stand stark against her pale skin come the next morning, and while that means their plan is a success, it’s still an ugly sight to behold in the mirror.

Lysithea forgoes her usual low-neckline blouses to at least appear like she’s trying to keep the marks hidden, though even her blouse with the highest collar cannot fully cover the reach of the bruises Edelgard left on her the night before. 

She leaves her chambers, joined by Edelgard, and the two of them head to the kitchens to help out with breakfast as they frequently have since arriving. Yet to their surprise, they step inside to see Celia there, and she turns to face them both with a satisfied smile, setting her hands on her hips.

“Aunt Celia,” Lysithea blinks, surprised by her presence, “I didn’t expect to see you here… I thought you were still unwell.”

“I can tough it out,” Celia says with a grin. “You needn’t worry about pitching in today. I finished it all up already.”

“I am glad to know you are feeling better, Lady Celia,” Edelgard smiles. 

“Please, call me Aunt Celia. We’re to be family, after all,” Celia sends her a wink, walking closer and wrapping an arm around Edelgard’s back.

“She absolutely will _ not _ be doing that,” Lysithea huffs, glaring at Celia.

Edelgard tenses at Celia’s touch, more by embarrassment than anything else. She keeps her gaze off of her, instead moving to change the subject. “We… I…am sorry we hadn’t come here sooner to help.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” Celia tilts her head, her expression turning knowing as she quirks an eyebrow at Edelgard. “Go on, help yourself to some breakfast out in the dining hall. I’ve missed out on too much as of late, and you and I have a _ lot _ of catching up to do, Edelgard.”

Edelgard gulps and nods her head, letting herself be guided away. She glances over her shoulder, expecting Lysithea to follow, but Celia’s next words make Edelgard realize that is likely not going to happen.

“And you,” Celia turns her attention to Lysithea. “You and I are going to do a lot of catching up right now!”

Celia not so subtly pushes Edelgard the rest of the way out of the kitchen, leaving just her and Lysithea. She turns to Lysithea with a devilish grin, but before she can say anything, Lysithea cuts her off. 

“You called her Edelgard,” Lysithea says.

“That _ is _ her name, so I’ve been told,” Celia says with a playful shrug. “Unless I’ve been told wrong.”

“Just. Edelgard,” Lysithea blinks. “That’s bold.”

“I am bold,” Celia quirks an eyebrow teasingly, and she starts to move closer to Lysithea, taking slow, intimidating steps to circle around her, “but apparently nowhere as bold as you, darling.”

Lysithea lifts her chin in a challenge, glaring at Celia out of the corner of her eye as her posture turns rigid. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, ho, ho, but you do,” Celia says, and she quickly steps forward and hooks her finger in Lysithea’s collar and yanks it down, revealing the hickeys upon her skin. “I knew it!”

Lysithea gasps and clamps her hand over her neck, shocked at her forwardness. “Oh, I cannot _ believe _ you!”

“And I cannot believe you!” Celia points at Lysithea and laughs. “I saw the same marks on Edelgard’s skin and just _ had _ to see if you had them too!”

“I am not talking to you about this,” Lysithea huffs, closing her eyes and crossing her arms. “You’re my aunt!”

“Please, this is the most interesting thing to happen in this house since some silly noble brat paid us a visit while you were off in the war asking for your hand in marriage,” Celia says bitterly, setting a hand on her hip.

Lysithea narrows her eyes at her. “_What _ happened?”

“I got rid of him, that’s not important,” Celia shakes her head dismissively, though she regains her excitement and steps closer. “You have to tell me everything. Oh, I just cannot believe you! Do they teach you that sort of raunchy behavior in the soldier barracks?” she teases.

“I wasn’t even in the barracks,” Lysithea groans. “I can’t do this. We’re related—this is too weird for me.”

“Please,” Celia pleads, clutching at Lysithea’s wrists. “I won’t even tell your mother. Or father, but he’s always been more liberal. He’d probably cry tears of joy that you’ve grown up so much.”

Lysithea shudders at Celia’s words, and she can’t even hold her gaze before she glances away, feeling a rush of fluster come over her. “Well, I hate to disappoint, but this,” she gestures at her neck, “is as far as we got last night.”

“Oh, no,” Celia frowns, pouting out her lower lip. “Trouble in paradise?”

“No…” Lysithea sighs. “It’s not that… It’s just that she’s, well… Repressed.”

“Oh,” Celia draws out, nodding in understanding. “So have you two never—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Lysithea says. “And… no. We haven’t. It’s…difficult to explain. She’s repressed in a lot of ways, even romantically and emotionally.”

“Auntie Celia is going to give you some important advice about how to seduce someone you fancy,” Celia says in a serious voice, wrapping her arm around Lysithea.

Lysithea groans and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Now this is _ hardly _ my first time—”

“You share my traits, it was only a matter of time before you learned to use our similar beauty wisely,” Celia tosses her hair over her shoulder. “But I know how to get someone over that repression, and I will tell you how.”

Lysithea raises her eyebrows dryly. “Is that so?”

“Have you ever met your uncle before, Lysithea?” Celia says. “Trust me, no one in this house is more qualified to teach you than me.”

Lysithea closes her eyes and hangs her head, utterly hating how this conversation has turned. “Fine. Enlighten me.”

“Now, you may think that a repressed person doesn’t even feel the emotions they repress. That is untrue. They do feel it, it’s just that often they don’t know how to or they don’t want to act on it,” Celia says in a whisper, like she’s unveiling some huge secret. “The key is to forge an environment where they are trusting enough of you that they are willing to open themselves up to try. Once you can see them ready to open up, you use that Ordelia womanly magic you have to charm them the rest of the way.”

“Please never say that again,” Lysithea sighs tiredly. She keeps her gaze off Celia, attempting to appear as if she isn’t taking anything she says to heart, but she quickly looks at Celia once before looking away immediately after. “...That isn’t the dumbest thing to ever come out of your mouth.”

“I know my stuff,” Celia winks, though her expression soon turns sincere, and she sets her hands on Lysithea’s cheeks fondly. “I’m rooting for you, my dear Lysithea. Judging by the number that she left on you last night, I’d say you’re closer than you expect.”

“Everything that you say is somehow even more disgusting than the last,” Lysithea grumbles, upset that her cheeks are being smushed by Celia’s hands. “And you really need to decide if you want to be the old, wise, and doting aunt figure or my ‘best friend’ for gossip instead of fluctuating between the two whenever one fits you more.”

Celia’s expression drops, and she purses her lips and jabs Lysithea in the forehead with her index and middle fingers. “Never call me ‘old’ again. I still have my youthful looks—_ and _ no wrinkles, unlike your mother.”

Lysithea lets out a dry laugh at that, and that gets Celia to smile again. Celia gives Lysithea a gentle shove towards the door. “Better not keep Edelgard waiting for breakfast. It’s never too early to start working your magic.”

Lysithea shudders when Celia winks at her, sticking out her tongue in disgust. “You are the worst!” she exclaims, moving to leave.

Celia just lets out an obnoxious, mocking laugh as she points at Lysithea, following her out of the kitchen.

* * *

Lysithea refuses to take Celia’s words to heart throughout the day.

Even though she wants nothing more than to have Edelgard as hers, to have this twisted ruse be real, Lysithea cannot bring herself to turn those desires into a reality. She knows it’s foolish to think she could have Edelgard, to somehow make Edelgard long for her the same way she does, and she refuses to try. Doing such a thing would expose Lysithea’s weakness in falling for their own ruse, allowing herself to be carried away by their charade, and revealing how unprofessional she’s become.

Because the last thing Lysithea wants to be to Edelgard is an embarrassment and a failure, so she keeps her silence.

That night, she’s kept awake by her own thoughts, haunted stronger than usual by how they share a bed, and how Edelgard is so close for hers to have, yet so unattainable at the same time. She feels as if she wastes away in that bed for hours without sleep, and unlike other nights where her exhaustion roots her in place despite being unable to sleep, Lysithea still feels energy in her body—energy that eats at her and makes it hard to even be in the same space as Edelgard.

Lysithea suddenly decides she needs a distraction, and she leaves the bed and her chambers. Soon enough, she finds herself within the kitchen, having quickly created a batter from scratch to make a cake, with the cake now sitting in the oven to bake. Lysithea sits on the floor across from the oven, her back pressed to the wall and her knees pulled to her chest. She keeps a careful eye on the cake’s progress in rising, waiting for the opportune moment to pull it out. It’s a pleasant distraction, she finds, and it’s doing an effective job at alleviating her stress. The promise of getting to enjoy a cake afterward is an added, marvelous bonus.

As Lysithea sits there, she hears the doors to the kitchen open, finding Edelgard standing there in her sleepwear, looking fresh from bed.

“I wondered what the source of that fantastic smell was,” Edelgard muses, running a hand through her hair to free it from her face. “I should’ve expected to find you with it when I saw you had left.”

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” Lysithea asks, feeling a little guilty, but also feeling dread because she came here to avoid Edelgard. “You were finally able to get some sleep…”

Edelgard shakes her head, crossing her arms with a hint of a yawn she tries to mask. “It wasn’t you, don’t worry,” she draws in a breath, averting her gaze and visibly considering how to continue. “It was a nightmare.”

Lysithea’s eyebrows raise for a moment, surprised by Edelgard’s trust to confide in her about it. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’d rather not,” Edelgard sighs. “These things are best left forgotten.”

Lysithea nods, her gaze dropping. While a bit disappointed by Edelgard’s refusal, she knows full well she doesn’t like talking about her own nightmares either. It can’t be helped.

Instead, Lysithea pats the space next to her, inviting Edelgard to join her. “Then let’s forget about that. The cake’s almost finished baking. You can have some when it’s done.”

“What a momentous occasion,” Edelgard says as she walks over to Lysithea, joining her on the floor, sitting close enough where they’re shoulder to shoulder. “Lysithea actually intends to share her sweets instead of severing the hand that dares reach for some.”

Lysithea rolls her eyes at Edelgard’s joke, huffing. “Nevermind, then. It’s all mine now.”

“No, don’t,” Edelgard says quickly, her expression falling in a pout.

It gets Lysithea to laugh, knowing Edelgard’s victim to her own sweet tooth as well. “Well, I can’t exactly say ‘no’ to a pout that cute, now can I? I’ll let you have a little.”

Edelgard is silent for a moment, her lips still pursed. “...Only a little?”

Lysithea laughs again, softer this time, and she yields. “Fine, as much as you want, but only up to half. Final offer.”

Edelgard smiles briefly. “Accepted, but I won’t need half, so don’t worry. You’ll still have most of it.”

“Ahh, perfect,” Lysithea says contentedly. “I made a whipped frosting for it.”

Edelgard’s smile vanishes, and she blinks, her gaze low on Lysithea’s shoulder. “Can it be chocolate instead?” she asks quietly.

“Are you serious?” Lysithea counters.

Edelgard nods her head slowly. “I want chocolate frosting. Please.”

“Begging isn’t the color for an Emperor.”

“I can make that an order, if you wish to bring my title into this.”

“Damn, you sure played me quick,” Lysithea grumbles, stunned, though she surrenders with a sigh. “I’ll make you your stupid chocolate frosting while the cake cools. I’ll just eat the whipped frosting straight out of the bowl like an idiot, I guess.”

“Wouldn’t be the most desperate thing I’ve seen you do to satisfy that sweet tooth of yours,” Edelgard teases, rather proud of herself.

Lysithea shakes her head at the audacity of Edelgard’s words, but she finds herself laughing regardless. Edelgard laughs some too, though she’s cut off by a yawn, one she cannot stop in time. Lysithea frowns hearing it.

“Couldn’t get back to sleep after the nightmare, huh?” Lysithea asks gently.

Edelgard shakes her head. “No. I…I didn’t want to. I didn’t want it to come back.”

Lysithea’s frown deepens to find out that Edelgard is forcing herself to stay awake, but she sees how tired Edelgard truly is. She also knows how stubborn Edelgard is, and she’ll surely deprive herself of sleep further if not stopped. 

“Hey, I got you,” Lysithea says quietly. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“You cannot hope to stave them off for me,” Edelgard responds, her tone bitter, but she’s sure not to direct that bitterness at Lysithea.

Lysithea shakes her head. “No, but I’ll be there for you when they return.”

Edelgard doesn’t reply to that, and she lets out another yawn, feeling sleep tug heavily at her eyes. Lysithea, her heart aching for Edelgard, slowly reaches up, setting her hand on the farther side of Edelgard’s head and gently guiding her to rest her head against her shoulder.

“Please rest, at least,” Lysithea says. “You need it.”

Edelgard lets herself relax, adjusting slightly to get a more comfortable angle, her cheek pressed to Lysithea’s shoulder and her eyes falling shut.

“Thank you,” Edelgard whispers, barely audible.

Lysithea stays quiet, though she moves to rest her head against Edelgard’s own. They stay like that for a while, with Lysithea watching the progress of the cake in the oven. Once the cake is close to being done, Lysithea goes to nudge Edelgard off of her so she can take it out, but she’s stopped by the sounds of Edelgard’s soft breaths and the peacefulness of her expression in slumber. 

For a moment, Lysithea is too taken with that softness of Edelgard’s features to move, breathless and stunned by how someone like her, shaped through hardship and leadership, looks when her walls are fully down, delicate and beautiful. A warmth spreads through her chest at the sight, and Lysithea decides she will do whatever she can to make sure Edelgard can experience that peaceful sleep for as long as possible.

Lysithea moves slowly and carefully, exercising more caution and patience with every subtle moment than she has in years, to loop an arm around Edelgard’s back and another under her knees. Her Crest of Charon activates, shining in her left eye as she uses the boost in strength to stand up with Edelgard in her arms, carried close to Lysithea’s body. Lysithea spares one look at the oven and figures she has to move as quickly yet carefully as possible as to not burn the cake or wake Edelgard. With her Crest still active to assist, Lysithea leaves.

While in the halls on the way to her chambers, Lysithea spots Osric further down the hallway in his own sleepwear. When Osric sees her and Edelgard, he quickens his pace to check in on the both of them, but Lysithea prevents him from saying anything rashly with a quiet shush.

Osric gets closer and hushes his voice. “Is everything alright?” he asks, his gaze dropping to Edelgard.

“She’s fine, she just fell asleep with me,” she responds. “Poor thing’s exhausted…”

“Do you need help?” Osric offers, holding out his arms to receive Edelgard.

Lysithea shakes her head, and she glances down at Edelgard. Edelgard’s head rests against her collarbone, nestled into her neck. The sight of it brings a small grin to Lysithea’s face. “I can manage carrying her. But can you do me a huge favor and put the cake that’s in the oven on a cooling rack and get the ingredients for chocolate frosting? I’ll join you once I put her to bed.”

Osric nods and flashes a small smile. “Of course. I’ll see you shortly.”

Lysithea returns the smile appreciatively, the sincerity of it reaching her eyes. She mouths a ‘thank you’ before Osric walks away and she moves to do the same. Able to move more slowly knowing that her cake won’t overbake, Lysithea carefully carries Edelgard back into their chambers.

Once inside, Lysithea sees how the blankets are mostly at the foot of the bed, with Edelgard not remaking the bed when she first left. Lysithea thanks her for that in her head, since it makes what follows a lot easier. Lysithea uses the bulk of her strength to lift Edelgard onto the bed as delicately as possible, without any sudden movements. She settles her onto the bed as well as she can, leaning her torso down onto the mattress and aligning her head with a pillow, and then easing down her legs. She covers her with the blankets to finish situating Edelgard for bed.

Lysithea then glances at Edelgard again, feeling that similar surprise at how soft her features look, with the novelty of her beauty not yet wearing off. Some of Edelgard’s hair had fallen across her face while being carried, and Lysithea takes this opportunity to brush the hair aside, her fingers ghosting over Edelgard’s skin, her touch light yet filled with such emotion and care.

With Edelgard’s face now unobscured, Lysithea feels that warmth wash over her even stronger than before. Her heart swells at the sight of Edelgard’s beauty, and Lysithea can’t help that her fingertips linger over Edelgard’s jaw. Equal parts emboldened and weakened by Edelgard’s sleeping form before her, Lysithea closes her eyes and leans closer, pressing her lips to Edelgard’s cheek in a gentle, adoring kiss. She stays still for a little while, indulging in that blissful feeling to have her lips upon her again, but she reminds herself to not be selfish, and she pulls away.

When Lysithea’s lips leave her, Edelgard lets out a soft whine and turns her head, seemingly trying to regain that contact. For a moment, Lysithea fears she has woken Edelgard, but when Edelgard says nothing and moves no further, Lysithea figures it was an instinctual reaction contrived in Edelgard’s sleep, signifying nothing. She breathes a little easier after that, but there’s an ache in Lysithea’s chest regardless, a longing for something beyond.

Lysithea spares Edelgard one last glance before she leaves her chambers to join Osric in the kitchens, deciding she’s finishing that cake for Edelgard more than herself.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rosalind lifts her gaze to meet Lysithea’s eyes. Sadness reflects in Rosalind’s cherry eyes, and Lysithea hates how the slightest hint of pain and disappointment still lingers there. She hates seeing the red of Rosalind’s eyes—the red her own eyes have long lost—and seeing those emotions accosting her within them.
> 
> “I understand now, the true depths of your devotion to her,” Rosalind says quietly. “My words must have hurt you both greatly, if you care for her as deeply as you appear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **content warnings: explicit sexual content** past the second line break, approximately halfway through the text until about three quarters of the way through, and **violence, blood, and major character injury** past the fourth line break until the end

For once, Lysithea wakes before Edelgard.

Lysithea doesn’t know how long she sleeps, perhaps only a few hours—yet still she manages to wake before Edelgard despite falling asleep long after her. Lysithea can tell she’s the first awake judging by how Edelgard, in her waking moments, would never be caught in her right mind laying on her stomach, her face buried in Lysithea’s neck, and her arm wrapped around Lysithea’s waist. Lysithea knows it’s just an action contrived from sleep, devoid of meaning, and not at all accordant with how she would actually carry herself when awake and sentient.

Lysithea lets out a sigh, feeling a stabbing pain in her heart. Yet she still reaches up and sets her hand on Edelgard’s head, gently threading her fingers through her hair and playing with it absentmindedly. The soft sensation causes Edelgard to stir against Lysithea’s side, initially moving closer, wanting more of that touch, but as soon as she brings herself closer, Edelgard seems to catch herself. Edelgard pushes her upper body off of Lysithea, yet she still lays at her side, propped up by her one hand as the other one rubs at her eyes.

“Well, you sure slept like a rock,” Lysithea plays it off like no big deal, even if she can hear her heartbeat ringing in her ears.

“It feels like it,” Edelgard says in a raspy, tired voice, and she opens her eyes to see how she hovers overtop Lysithea, seemingly now realizing the position they’re in. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lysithea turns her head away, her nervous swallow visible through the way her marked throat bobs. “I only care that you actually seemed to sleep well last night.”

Edelgard distances herself from Lysithea and lays back down on her side of the bed, stretching out and then curling back in on herself. “I want more… That felt so good,” she mumbles, her usual filter gone due to her tired state.

“Then go back to sleep,” Lysithea says, rolling out of bed now that she isn’t pinned under Edelgard.

“Can’t,” Edelgard protests meekly. “We have breakfast…”

“I’ll make you some later,” Lysithea says. “You don’t have to worry about doing anything.”

Edelgard groans to that, trying to protest with her words, but failing to string any together. Lysithea walks around the bed to stand by Edelgard’s side, and she sets her hand on her shoulder and briefly sits down beside her. 

“You’re free to rest, Edelgard. You deserve it,” Lysithea whispers, giving Edelgard’s shoulder a slight squeeze.

Edelgard covers her face with her arm, though she can’t quite hide that pink tint to her features. She mouths a weak ‘fine,’ and Lysithea stands up with one final squeeze to Edelgard’s shoulder before she goes to get dressed.

About an hour later, as Lysithea and Osric talk in the dining hall long after everyone else has left, they’re joined by Edelgard letting herself in, still looking rather tired, but notably more awake than before.

“Hey,” Lysithea greets her, smiling. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good,” Edelgard responds, and for once she doesn’t hate answering the question. “I think I was a little reckless and slept too much…”

“We can fix that,” Lysithea says, and Osric steps out for a moment. She motions towards a chair for Edelgard to sit, and she leans against the table once Edelgard’s seated. Osric rejoins them shortly after, carrying a plate with a stand and a cover overtop. He sets it on the table in front of Edelgard and lifts the cover with a flourish, revealing a brilliantly garnished chocolate cake underneath.

Edelgard’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Impressive… Was this the cake you were making last night?”

When Osric joins Lysithea’s side, she throws her arm around his shoulders and nods her head. “We spent all night making that thing look perfect,” she says.

“Actually, she was the one doing most of the work,” Osric says, and his voice is more lighthearted than usual. “I merely had to make sure she didn’t eat her own progress.”

“I’d say you had the most important job, Osric,” Edelgard laughs at Lysithea’s expense. She ignores the way Lysithea glares at her, and instead looks at the chocolate cake, letting out a breath. “But… for breakfast? Really?”

“Please, I just got finished eating so much strawberry shortcake I think I blacked out for a little,” Lysithea says.

“Approximately five minutes,” Osric adds.

Edelgard looks at Lysithea, concerned. “That is not something to brag about.”

Lysithea shakes her head and nudges the cake closer to Edelgard. “Just eat it, Edelgard. No one here is going to judge you.”

Edelgard stops for a moment, staring at the cake, uncertain. Though she soon draws in a breath and throws caution to the air, cutting herself a slice and allowing herself to indulge. She takes one bite, and her eyes close blissfully and she lets out a soft hum. “This is divine, Lysithea… You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

Lysithea looks at Osric with a proud smile, and they share a high-five in victory. Edelgard catches sight of it, and while her mouth is still full with cake, she still smiles.

“It’s good to see you two like this,” Edelgard says once she finishes her bite. “It feels as if things haven’t been calm enough to enjoy peaceful moments such as these.”

Lysithea lets out a quiet sigh and looks at Osric, her smile softening. “Yeah, the first time we’ve been able to talk about something other than business was last night while we were throwing together all that frosting.”

“It’s been so long since we’ve been able to talk like old times,” Osric says. “I’ve missed it greatly.”

“That’s right,” Edelgard says, scrunching her nose with a slight frown. “It’s been quite a few years since the last you’ve seen each other. That’s rather unfortunate.”

“It’s been less than a year, actually,” Lysithea admits with an embarrassed laugh. “After the battle at the Great Bridge of Myrddin, I might have taken the scenic route to return to the monastery so I could pay him a visit.”

“Scenic route? Ordelia territory is in the complete opposite direction than the monastery,” Edelgard says. “I swore your parents said our arrival was the first they’ve seen of you in years.”

Lysithea nods her head slowly. “And it was. I didn’t see them when I came back. I think part of me knew that if they saw me, they’d get mad with the decisions I was making, just like they are now.”

“Your father isn’t mad with you, Lysi,” Osric shakes his head. 

“No, but he barely trusts me anymore. He thinks this whole thing is a bad idea,” Lysithea sighs. “And you’ve seen how my mother is on the verge of disowning me from sheer disappointment with every decision I’ve made since leaving here when I was a kid.”

Osric frowns, his gaze falling to the floor. He reaches out to wrap his arm around Lysithea’s back, his hand gently running up and down her arm. Lysithea closes her eyes and leans into his touch, letting out another sigh. “I made the right decision in just seeing him. He isn’t allowed to dislike me.”

Osric laughs under his breath. “It goes against my contract.”

That gets Edelgard to smile too, if only briefly. “You two remind me of how me and Hubert used to banter before our lives became too burdened with responsibility.”

“Are you referring to that man who we came across that one day?” Osric asks, pursing his lips a little awkwardly. “I do not think I’m that ominous and brooding…”

Lysithea shakes her head. “No, that’s my job.”

Edelgard laughs. “I suppose the dynamic is reversed when it comes to you two, but it’s a similar principle. I am glad that you two haven’t quite lost that banter, though. I rather miss it with Hubert.”

“Hey,” Lysithea says, flashing a smile to Edelgard. “Once we get rid of those who slither in the dark, we can rest a lot easier. You’ll be able to relax more, like you are now.”

Edelgard nods her head slowly, and she looks back at the cake, having only eaten about a quarter of the wheel. She stands up from her chair, keeping her gaze low. “I’m afraid I can’t devour a whole cake the same as you, Lysithea. I’m rather full, and there’s something I wanted to investigate in the library. You’ll have to excuse me.”

Lysithea frowns to see Edelgard go, but she doesn’t put up a fight to stop it. “I might end up eating it if you won’t.”

“Go ahead,” Edelgard flashes a smile that doesn’t show in her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll be impressed with your own work.” She takes a look at Osric and nods her head in goodbye, and she leaves quickly thereafter.

Once the doors close behind Edelgard, Lysithea groans and holds her head in her hands. “I can’t take it, Osric! This is getting to be too much!”

Osric sets his hand on Lysithea’s back, furrowing his brow. “What is it?”

“She has no idea what she’s doing to me,” Lysithea shakes her head fervently. “This stupid ruse, all of the acting, and she’s still so damn _ clueless_—”

“Hey, take a deep breath for a moment,” Osric says. “Has something happened between you two?”

“So much, yet nothing at all,” Lysithea laments. “I made a mistake, Osric. I…I let myself get caught up in this act. I’m not faking the emotions anymore. Everything is so painfully real to me, and every day I have to endure these lies dangling what it is I truly want in front of my face, so excruciatingly close, yet forever unattainable—I cannot _ take _ it!”

“Lysi, I…I had no idea you felt this…strongly,” Osric stammers, caught by surprise by Lysithea’s confession.

“I wish I didn’t,” Lysithea wraps her arms around herself with a deep sigh, closing her eyes. “To feel this strongly is torture. I cannot believe I was weak enough to allow this to happen…”

“Weak?” Osric repeats, confused. “How are you weak?”

“I fell for our own damn game, Osric,” Lysithea says in a defeated voice. “I fell victim to my own emotions when we have a bigger purpose here—I’m letting myself get distracted in our mission. All of this is a huge, dangerous mistake.”

“Lysithea…” Osric frowns, rubbing a gentle circle on Lysithea’s back. “How did you two arrive at the idea to use an engagement to return to the house?”

“It was a stupid idea on my end. I regret few things in life, but this is one of them,” Lysithea mutters. “I don’t even know how it crossed my mind. I guess I thought of the least imposing way to justify Edelgard accompanying me, and then I thought of the ring, and then the plan fell into place from there. If I had known this would happen, I would have _ begged _to come up with another plan.”

Osric stays silent, rendered speechless by Lysithea’s words. He cannot find anything to say, his words failing him. “...I’m sorry, Lysithea.”

“Don’t be. I’m the idiot here. I brought this on myself,” Lysithea shakes her head, dejected. “I don’t know what to do, Osric… My own feelings are suffocating me, and she’s none the wiser.”

Osric tilts his head as he looks at her, and he hesitates before reaching out, setting his hand upon her cheek to guide her eyes to his. “If you wanted to take time for yourself, I will personally guarantee no one encroaches on your space.”

Lysithea glances up at him, her eyes pleading for some sort of respite, but she casts her gaze away weakly. “I don’t have the luxury of time right now. This mission is more important—even if it kills me to partake in it.”

“Seeing you this way kills me, too,” Osric says quietly. “But if there is anything I can do, just say the word. I’ll do everything I must to lessen this pain…”

Lysithea steps forward into Osric’s arms, setting her hands on his chest and clutching at the fabric of his blouse. “I need to at least pretend to fill out some of the marriage paperwork, but were I to do it alone, I fear I might set the whole stack of parchment ablaze,” she says quietly. “Can you stay with me?”

Osric nods, holding Lysithea close. “Of course.”

Lysithea closes her eyes and lets out a breath of relief, feeling that some peace has been brought to her, at least for a little while.

At least with Osric, Lysithea has someone she can truly confide in, someone who can unconditionally support her throughout the tumultuous state of affairs within House Ordelia, and within Lysithea’s own heart.

* * *

After combing through the exhausting paperwork for so long, Lysithea decides she’s had enough, and she insists on going on a walk through the mansion to clear her mind. At first, being able to move around does reinvigorate her and it clears the dense cloud in her head. Though with her misfortune as of late, all of that progress quickly comes to an end, and someone interrupts Lysithea’s walk.

“Lysithea?”

She stops and lets out a sigh, recognizing the voice as her mother’s. She curses her luck and feels her body tense from dread, and she refuses to turn around to face her.

“I have no time or desire to speak with you.”

Lysithea can hear Rosalind let out a soft sigh, as well as her approaching footsteps. She feels a hand on her shoulder, and Lysithea quickly recoils at the touch, looking back at her mother, seeing the way she flinches at Lysithea’s sudden movements.

“Lysithea, please…” Rosalind says weakly, holding her hands closely to her chest. “I need to make amends.”

Lysithea narrows her eyes, coming to cross her arms. “Then you should be paying Edelgard a visit instead of me.”

Rosalind shakes her head. “No, no… I’ve wronged you both. I just wanted to speak with you first—”

“Oh, because I’m the easier one to approach, huh?”

“You are my _ daughter_, Lysithea… What matters the most to me is that I do not lose you,” Rosalind says.

Lysithea shakes her head with a pointed exhale, her gaze piercing when it finds Rosalind’s. “You’ve come dangerously close to pushing me off that edge to leave forever, based upon what horrible things you said to the woman who I cherish above all else in this world—”

“Lysithea, I know,” Rosalind smiles weakly and shakes her head. “I know this engagement is only a cover. You don’t have to pretend to say those things anymore.”

Lysithea quickly glances away, her shoulders rising tensely. Her heart hangs broken within her chest, because while Rosalind believes that Lysithea said those things as part of her ruse, they couldn’t have been more genuine coming from Lysithea’s lips.

Though while Lysithea’s initial reaction is embarrassment, a stronger emotion washes over her, and she feels her blood boil like flames from the rage brewing within her.

“You still don’t get it,” Lysithea growls, like venom is tumbling from her lips. “This may be a cover, but my loyalty and devotion to her has _ never _ been an act. You asked me which side I’ve chosen, and beyond a shadow of a doubt, I will always choose her if you continue to force my family to stand in opposition to her. I never would’ve had to choose if you hadn’t made her out to be the enemy!”

Rosalind’s eyes go wide to hear Lysithea admit to it, but to Lysithea’s surprise, she does not object to it. Instead, she lowers her head, her eyes squeezing tightly shut in shame. “It was wrong of me to antagonize her the way that I did. I truly had no clue that the people responsible for all of our pain and hurt were not real agents of the Empire. I deeply regret turning my suffering into prejudice against her. I know now she is not like those monsters. But Lysithea, you must know, the ministers in the Empire are not to be trusted—”

“All those ministers you speak of have either been placed under house arrest or killed by our hands,” Lysithea counters. “We purged the rot in the Empire. I have fought alongside every minister and official who wields power within the Empire in the war. Before you next claim they’re all monsters, know that most of them are my friends and allies.”

Rosalind falls silent, nodding her head in defeat. When she doesn’t speak up again, Lysithea continues.

“I knew what I was doing when I joined Edelgard all those years ago. I wouldn’t have done it if I thought her cause was anything less than noble. I pledged my life to her, Mother. I never intend on leaving her side.”

Rosalind lifts her gaze to meet Lysithea’s eyes. Sadness reflects in Rosalind’s cherry eyes, and Lysithea hates how the slightest hint of pain and disappointment still lingers there. She hates seeing the red of Rosalind’s eyes—the red her own eyes have long lost—and seeing those emotions accosting her within them.

“I understand now, the true depths of your devotion to her,” Rosalind says quietly. “My words must have hurt you both greatly, if you care for her as deeply as you appear.”

“The depths of which are more than you could ever understand,” Lysithea says, swallowing when her composure nearly cracks under the implications of Rosalind’s words. “Your apologies would be better aimed at her. I wasn’t the one who had to withstand the wrath of your prejudice.”

Rosalind weakly nods her head. “It pains me to know what pushed you away from this family was…_ me_,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “I hope you can learn to love me again, and that I do not continue to push you into further animosity.”

“My words are only so harsh because you have been forcing me to choose when my family and Edelgard should never have been on opposing sides in the first place,” Lysithea shakes her head with a sigh. “I don’t want to have to choose one over the other, Mother. I love my family and I would do anything to keep you all safe, but I care for Edelgard just as strongly. What you need to understand is that if you insist on turning against Edelgard, you will not be happy with which side I end up on.”

“You have made as much clear,” Rosalind says. “I’m sorry for cornering you. I won’t bother you for the rest of your stay. I will speak with Edelgard to apologize, but I won’t approach her after that, as well.”

Lysithea watches as Rosalind turns to make her leave, and she forces herself to stand firm. Though she wants nothing more than to run after her mother and embrace her, telling her that they’re okay and that she still loves her, Lysithea knows her trust has been broken to the point where she cannot believe that Rosalind will truly change without experiencing these sorts of consequences. 

So, with her heart dull and aching in her chest, Lysithea walks in the opposite direction, struggling to keep her eyes dry with every step.

* * *

Lysithea finds herself in her bed, stress filling every muscle and bone in her body. She doesn’t know how much time passes with her laying there, completely drained in every capacity, but she barely feels a difference after all that time. 

The doors to her chambers open, and Lysithea closes her eyes and lets out a deep exhale in dread when Edelgard walks inside.

Edelgard blinks in surprise to see Lysithea in bed. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

“Did you forget this is _ my _ room?” Lysithea groans tiredly.

“I—no. That’s not what I meant,” Edelgard shakes her head.

Catching Edelgard’s stumble, Lysithea sighs, catching her own brashness. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Edelgard simply moves towards the bed, and she sits down on the mattress and glances at Lysithea. “Is something the matter?”

“I’m reaching the limit of how much stress I can handle,” Lysithea says. “Everywhere I turn, there’s a new problem.”

Edelgard frowns, her gaze dropping to the mattress. “I know this hasn’t been an easy stay for you.”

Lysithea covers her face with her hands and lets out a groan, fearing that every complaint she makes will make Edelgard think of her as weak. “I probably sound like I’m being overdramatic, but this house is starting to suffocate me. I can barely catch true peace for myself. I wish I could just get away for a little while to clear my head…”

Edelgard tilts her head as she listens to Lysithea’s concerns, and a solution comes to her mind easily. “Then leave.”

The bluntness of that answer catches Lystihea off-guard. “...Sorry. I’ll stop bothering you.”

“Hold on,” Edelgard shakes her head quickly to amend her speech. “I just meant that it’s possible to leave the manor if you wished. There’s the outer gardens, after all. You should be able to find a moment of peace there—_true _ peace.”

Lysithea furrows her eyebrows, thinking it over for a moment. She cannot believe she didn’t think of such an idea first, but she guesses it never crossed her mind from how poorly she’s been able to orient herself lately. “You’re right… That is a pretty good idea.”

Edelgard nods her head and flashes a smile. “I’ve been feeling a little overwhelmed myself, and I’d considered doing the same. I’ll need to ask Osric to accompany me for part of the journey when I decide to go, however. I fear I might get myself lost otherwise.”

A thought brings Lysithea pause, but she eventually looks back at Edelgard. “You don’t need Osric. I can guide you.”

Edelgard sends Lysithea a confused look. “Wouldn’t you rather be alone, if you are as stressed as you say?”

“Perhaps, but I almost always feel better around you,” Lysithea says. “And it’ll help you too, so I’m happy to have you come with me.”

Edelgard slowly comes to smile appreciatively, nodding her head. “Then you should get dressed more appropriately for the outdoors.”

Lysithea looks down at her nightclothes and throws her head back on the pillow in protest, whining. “Fine… Give me a few minutes.”

“There’s no rush,” Edelgard says. “I’d like to change into something more appropriate for the weather as well.”

Lysithea forces herself out of bed ever so reluctantly, and she slugs her way to her armoire. She pulls out a lavender shirt with sleeves that run to her elbows and a high-rising skirt, seeing them as the easiest to throw on. She slips into some sandals as well before turning to check on Edelgard, seeing her in black pants and a new red blouse with loose sleeves and cross-stitching holding together the neckline. 

“How dashing,” Lysithea teases, setting a hand on her hip.

Edelgard looks down at her clothes and scrunches her nose at Lysithea. “I’m starting to think you picked up one too many bad habits from Dorothea and Sylvain.”

“Never, and I mean _ ever_, insinuate I learned something from Sylvain again,” Lysithea jabs her finger into Edelgard’s chest. When Edelgard looks down again, Lysithea lifts her finger to flick Edelgard in the nose. 

“Now that’s just cruel,” Edelgard huffs, and it brings a smile to Lysithea’s face.

“And that’s where Dorothea and I differ,” Lysithea teases with a wink. “Come on, I think I know a place for us to go.”

Edelgard shakes her head, but she follows Lysithea without protest when she moves to leave. Lysithea leads them out of the mansion and through the inner gardens, passing all of the flower arrangements and shrubbery. Through a particular path, the carefully trimmed and organized plants gradually turn more wild and unrestrained, signifying their shift into the outer gardens.

The path soon opens into an open plain, with various trees spread out across the land. The mountains can be seen off in the distance, and the open landscape allows for one to see the unevenness of the land, the rises and falls of the valley, untouched by man. In this expanse of land, Lysithea leads Edelgard to a hill surrounded by various bushes, not too far down the plain. Various trees mark the top of the hill, but there is a clearing at the center, with a large mulberry tree standing apart from the rest.

“I used to run off here when I was younger,” Lysithea says. “I would sit under the mulberry tree because of all the cover it provides from the sun. I always get burned so easily, so I needed to go someplace with a lot of shade.”

Edelgard walks closer to the white mulberry tree, glancing around at all of the other scenery too, a look of awe in her eye. “The richness of nature in the Ordelia territory will never cease to astound me,” she says. “It’s breathtaking.”

Lysithea flashes a smile and nods her head, and she moves towards the trunk of the tree and sits down, resting her back against the bark. She motions for Edelgard to come join her, and Edelgard sits at the grass beside the tree trunk, stretching out her legs and propping herself up by a hand behind her back.

Lysithea lets out a pleasant smile and gets herself more situated, letting her gaze roam the sights. The green of the grass is as vibrant as can be, and the other trees upon the hill have bright yellow leaves, painted so golden against the grass and the stunning blue sky. The white of the mulberry fruits add a splash of color against the backdrop of the rich, deep green leaves of the tree, and Lysithea swears no paint pigment could ever hope to capture the same depth and vitality of the colors of the nature that surrounds her.

“You don’t see this in Enbarr,” Edelgard says after a while, her voice still struck with that same wonder and awe. “Never have I seen anything like this.”

“It’s been years since I’ve last seen this place before I left,” Lysithea says. “I know what you mean.”

“I don’t know how you could have done it,” Edelgard says quietly. “Were it not for the obligations I have, I would stay here and never leave.”

A question lingers at the tip of Lysithea’s tongue, and she gives in and poses it. “Do you ever get the urge to run away, to abandon it all?”

“I go to great lengths to ensure that does not happen, because I fear what may happen if I ponder on it for too long,” Edelgard shakes her head with a sigh. “Though, even I am not immune to dreaming of a relaxing, peaceful life.”

“All my life, I’ve been working so that I could run away one day and leave my title and everything with it behind,” Lysithea says, staring ahead. “But now more than ever, I’m unsure if that’s what I truly want.”

Edelgard turns her head to look at Lysithea, curious. ‘Have your parents’ words gotten to you?”

“No, it doesn’t have to do with them. Even if they want me to take over, I know for sure that’s not the path I want to take,” Lysithea says, and she draws her legs closer to her chest, feeling a spike of hesitation that causes her to rethink her words. “I already told you I’m happiest working with you in Enbarr. If I were to abandon everything like I initially planned, I don’t think I could come close to being as happy in that sort of life.”

“Can I ask something?” Edelgard’s expression turns pensive.

“Don’t make it a hard question,” Lysithea smiles faintly.

“What is it about Enbarr that brings you so much happiness?” Edelgard asks, her tone turning a question otherwise accusatory into a genuine, sincere exploration of her curiosity.

Lysithea bites on her tongue, flashing a smile rather wryly. “The feeling of purpose that I get every day, knowing I’m doing something for the better; the crowds in the capital city, because I think you’ve noticed by now I didn’t grow up with a lot of people, so the liveliness of all the people is so interesting to me; and, well…” she lets out a short laugh in disbelief she truly wishes to admit it. “I’d have to say you’re important in that as well, Edelgard.”

“Me?” Edelgard repeats, stunned.

“I swear, I’ve told you this a thousand times before. How many times must I repeat myself?” Lysithea says, and while her voice is exasperated, it’s still fond all the same. “I can’t bear the thought of leaving you, Edelgard. I’ve grown into so much of a better person because of you, and you constantly inspire me in so many different ways. This must be bizarre to hear for someone with your status, but you’re the only person who I can see and respect as an equal. I feel stronger with you, and I _ like _ it.”

Edelgard flashes a smile and lays back on the grass, setting her hands behind her head. “I’ve seen how you interact with others. I know not to take that respect of yours for granted. I know how much of a rarity that is from you,” she teases, though her message is sincere. “I just never thought that I could have that much of an impact on you in that way. I’m still surprised that people are willing to be close to me without any sort of ulterior motive. I never thought I was that interesting.”

“Interesting, and so much more,” Lysithea says quietly. “You underestimate yourself, Edelgard. The bond you and I share is the most important thing in this world to me. I never wish to lose it.”

That confession brings Edelgard pause, and her expression turns pensive again before she turns her head towards Lysithea. “Are you exaggerating your point?”

Lysithea shakes her head. “No. This is something I’ll swear on my very blood.”

Edelgard turns her head away again, staring up at the sky, rendered speechless. “Every day, I constantly find myself in awe because of you.”

“I let you get away with your praise of me, but this? I don’t find that merely speaking the truth is worthy of your endless songs of praise,” Lysithea replies.

“No, Lysithea. It’s exactly your willingness to be so honest with me that astounds me,” Edelgard admits quietly. “Thank you for that.”

Lysithea tries to read Edelgard’s expression to understand more, but from the tone of voice alone, its gentleness and its softness, Lysithea knows it to be sincere. She doesn’t question it further, instead looking back ahead, losing herself in the scenery laid before her.

A silence falls between the two of them that persists for a short while, allowing the two of them to settle at ease. It’s Edelgard, strangely, who speaks up first to break that silence.

“Lysithea?”

Lysithea lets out a hum to let Edelgard know she’s listening, though Edelgard’s response doesn’t come right away. When she next speaks, her hesitance and uncertainty carry clearly in her voice.

“Would it be alright if I let myself do nothing for a short while?” Edelgard asks, unsure. “I don’t normally like to let others see me this way.”

Lysithea flashes a smile to reassure her, nodding her head. She can tell how much Edelgard struggles to ask the question, so the least Lysithea can do is show her that her trust isn’t misplaced to request such a thing. “Don’t worry. I don’t mind one bit. I just hope you don’t mind it if I do the same.”

Edelgard closes her eyes and smiles to herself, moving a little to grow more situated where she lays on the ground. “Don’t act like I’ve never caught you doing that before. It wouldn’t be anything new for me to see.”

Lysithea narrows her eyes and purses her lips. “I don’t frequently allow myself to take breaks, you know.”

“Oh, Lysithea,” Edelgard says with a hint of a laugh, “I think you’re failing to factor in ‘sweet breaks’ when considering that.”

“Those are important and productive to my state of mind and energy level,” Lysithea argues.

Edelgard laughs again, and Lysithea swears she’d let herself be mocked again if it means hearing such a melodic sound. “If you so insist, I’ll let you continue to believe that.”

Lysithea rolls her eyes, but she cannot stop herself from laughing softly to herself. She slides herself closer to Edelgard as she lays there, sitting by her side and staring off into the distance contentedly.

Letting her mind wander at peace next to Edelgard, Lysithea watches the leaves jostled by the soft breeze. In the warm summer sunlight, Lysithea can see the soft sparkle of pollen in the air, a golden aura beglamoring the surrounding sights, filling Lysithea with a pleasant warmth and tranquility. Finally, her mind feels to be cleared of that hazy fog polluting it, shrouding her judgment and emotions. Every ailment brought on by the stress of being at House Ordelia is washed away as she lets herself relax under the mulberry tree, basking in the healing glow of the warm sun. 

When Lysithea feels that haze lift from her mind, she indulges in that curiosity to glance at Edelgard, turning her head to look behind her without any ounce of fear or hesitation telling her to stop. To her surprise, Lysithea finds Edelgard returning her gaze, and from the looks of it, Edelgard’s been looking at her for a little while.

“What?” Edelgard asks, seeing Lysithea’s eyebrow raise at her.

“You’re staring,” Lysithea says. “Is something on your mind?”

Edelgard’s gaze wanders across Lysithea’s features, something Lysithea is all too aware of. Edelgard lets out a hum, a little distracted. “I suppose.”

“What is it?”

“Hm. It’s nothing I wish to bother you with.”

“Nonsense,” Lysithea shakes her head. “You can tell me anything.”

Edelgard tilts her head, letting out a deep exhale. Her gaze doesn’t waver from Lysithea’s own, to Lysithea’s surprise. “I’ve been thinking about a conversation we had—about how you should be seen in my eyes.”

Lysithea recalls that conversation clearly, recalls how even when she didn’t know the true extent of her feelings, she wanted a deep connection with Edelgard, and a true intimacy. “Has something changed?”

Edelgard nods. “Yes, it certainly has,” she says, though the confidence in her voice fades when she speaks up again, instead sounding troubled. “I still feel as if I’m failing you, Lysithea. I see you differently now, but I fear I’ve erred again and my emotions have misled me into viewing you in a way that you wouldn’t want.”

Lysithea’s eyebrows raise in an eager curiosity. Something sparks within her, a flame of hope, to hear of the change in Edelgard’s view. “Don’t say that so soon, Edelgard. You won’t know for sure that I won’t like it unless you tell me what it is,” she says, shaking her head. “What do you see me as?”

“Beautiful,” Edelgard says, the confession breathless from her lips.

Lysithea’s lips part from surprise, and she finds herself coming to smile, averting her gaze at the warmth that rushes to her cheeks. “I never knew you to be such a sweet-talker. I can’t believe I have to tell _ you _ of all people to be serious with me—”

“I am,” Edelgard breathes out again, shaking her head. “In a flood of emotions and responses I do not understand, the only thing I can make sense of is how strongly I am captivated by you.”

Lysithea finds that all of her breath has left her, stunned by the emotions behind Edelgard’s words. That warmth spreads further through her body, leaving her chest aflame, her heart burning with emotion. “Oh, Edelgard—”

“No, ‘El,’” Edelgard asks, gazing at Lysithea above her, a stripe of pink flush running across her nose and cheeks. “I wish to hear that name from your lips.”

“El,” Lysithea whispers, gliding her hand across Edelgard’s stomach to rest upon her hip. Her eyes roam Edelgard’s features, and Lysithea thinks to herself how she’s never seen a sight more breathtaking than Edelgard lying beneath her, staring up at her with flushed cheeks and lavender eyes flowing with desire.

Edelgard removes her arms from behind her head, instead using her elbows to prop her torso off of the ground. Her gaze tries to hold Lysithea’s, though she succumbs to that urge numerous times to drop her gaze to Lysithea’s lips, never strong enough to resist. “Yes?”

“I think you’re finally discovering how I truly want you to see me,” Lysithea whispers, and she moves to tangle her fingers into Edelgard’s hair as she leans down, joining their lips in an ardent kiss.

The pace that Lysithea sets is slow, heavy, with Lysithea merely wanting to treasure how at last, Edelgard’s lips carry the same passion and willingness as her own. She savors that reciprocity that is finally being granted to her after what seemed like an eternity of longing. The hand that rises to Lysithea’s cheek, deepening the connection between their bodies, only causes Lysithea to melt against Edelgard’s lips, finally able to delight off of that euphoria Edelgard sends through her without any dread or fear at risk of tainting it.

That sensation that swells in her body the more Lysithea feels Edelgard’s lips move against her own soon proves to be overwhelming, and Lysithea uses her last few moments of willpower to break the kiss, only able to pull back enough that their lips no longer touch, but unwilling to distance herself any further.

“El,” Lysithea pants, and the way Edelgard drags her thumb across Lysithea’s lower lip intoxicates her, a hypnosis only intensified by how she can feel their warm breaths mix. “I want you. Please, tell me that you want me too.”

Edelgard nods her head, barely able to keep her eyes off Lysithea’s lips. “Yes—and now.”

Lysithea barely lets Edelgard finish once she agrees, quickly rejoining their lips in an embrace far more ravenous, fueled by the desire that’s consumed her for far too long. She guides Edelgard to lay down again, setting a hand by her head to steady herself as she moves to climb overtop her, straddling her hips. Even though Edelgard’s desperate hands latch onto the front of her shirt and pull Lysithea down so that their bodies are even closer, Lysithea is able to set her free hand flat on Edelgard’s chest. Lysithea splays her fingers through the strings drawing the front of Edelgard’s blouse shut, spreading the strings apart and loosening the front. Once Lysithea’s fingers merely graze the bare skin underneath Edelgard’s shirt, Edelgard wraps her hand around Lysithea’s wrist to stop her, breaking the kiss.

“I…I can’t bring myself to let anything show,” Edelgard says weakly. “I’m sorry.”

Lysithea pauses, returning to clarity after her mind became flooded with desire. Her gaze is gentle on Edelgard, carrying the sympathy she feels to see Edelgard taken over by shame, knowing full well its cause. Lysithea straightens her posture and sits back on Edelgard’s hips, untucking her top from her skirt and pulling it over her head. She reaches back and unclasps her brassiere as well, discarding it off to the side and laying the scars upon her chest bare for Edelgard to see: everything from the slits running parallel to her ribs to the two linear scars that run across her breastbone and down the center of her torso.

Edelgard watches Lysithea carefully, her throat bobbing with a nervous swallow as Lysithea disrobes. Her eyes widen slightly when she sees that T-shaped scar, and she becomes fixated on that one in particular, though her gaze is nothing but understanding. Overcome by her emotion, Edelgard sits up, wrapping her arm around Lysithea’s back to keep her steady as she closes her eyes and presses her lips to the spot where the two linear scars intersect, kissing the damaged skin tenderly.

Lysithea leans her head back, her back arching to meet Edelgard’s lips, a soft moan escaping her as she places a hand on the back of Edelgard’s head, encouraging her to keep going. Edelgard’s lips trail downward on the vertical scar, leaving kisses between Lysithea’s breasts, leaving no inch of it left neglected. She works her way back up, passing the point of intersection to bring her lips to Lysithea’s neck, before eventually joining their lips again in a kiss.

“Every inch of you is breathtaking,” Edelgard whispers against Lysithea’s lips when she pulls away.

A weightless feeling spreads through Lysithea’s chest at those words, filling her with an indescribable warmth and happiness. “And so are you,” Lysithea says, her hand cradling Edelgard’s cheek. “All of you is beautiful to me.”

Edelgard looks up to meet Lysithea’s eyes for a moment, the sincerity in them shining so clearly for her to see. After a moment of pause, Edelgard glances down at her shirt, and she slowly tugs at the strings tying together the front, allowing her own scars to be seen as she pulls her shirt open. Lysithea sets her hand on Edelgard’s shoulder, easing her to lay back down, and once she’s on top of Edelgard again, she drifts downward to set her lips over the newly-exposed skin, showing it just as much affection as Edelgard had with hers.

Lysithea’s hand wanders under the loose fabric of Edelgard’s shirt, taking great care not to expose more than Edelgard’s afforded to her already. She takes ahold of Edelgard’s breast in her hand, palming the sensitive skin, rewarding her with a gasping moan from Edelgard’s lips, the first of many to be heard underneath the white mulberry tree. 

Lysithea spends every moment granted to her by filling every touch and kiss with the fullest extent of her heart, not wanting to look back on this moment and feel as if she hadn’t shown enough, not knowing when next she’ll be able to have Edelgard beneath her, wanting her, crying out for her. So Lysithea shows Edelgard every ounce of her attention and reverence, doing everything in her power to bring her to the edge of pleasure and back, bringing her to her climax twice on both her fingers and her tongue.

After the second time, Lysithea rises from in between Edelgard’s legs, moving to rejoin their lips again. She feels the heavy rise and fall of Edelgard’s chest under her hand, breathless and panting, and Edelgard’s lips are languid and slow against her own. Lysithea cradles Edelgard’s face in her hands so tenderly, a swell of emotion and adoration filling her own chest to have Edelgard so close at last, to feel so complete and fulfilled.

In the soft, slow, gentle kiss, Edelgard turns her head away, breaking off the kiss and moving to sit up. Lysithea moves off of her, hesitant, watching Edelgard as Edelgard reaches for the shirt she’s discarded and begins to redress.

Lysithea watches, quiet, patient, yet a little confused. She grabs her own discarded top and brassiere, but she doesn’t put them on just yet. She merely holds them to her chest, staring at Edelgard. It’s only when Edelgard stands once she is finished that Lysithea finds her voice, unable to keep quiet any longer.

“Where are you going?” Lysithea asks, concerned.

“Back to the manor,” Edelgard answers.

Lysithea looks down at her clothes and moves to untangle them. “Spare me a moment, I’ll join you.”

“Alone,” Edelgard cuts her off, her voice quiet. “I wish to return alone.”

Lysithea freezes, brought pause by Edelgard’s insistence on leaving her. It’s a numb strike to heart, an attack she can see, but whose pain has not yet settled in. “Why?” she asks, her voice empty, hollow.

“There’s still work I need to get to,” Edelgard says tersely. “You don’t have to hurry yourself to follow me. Stay here as long as you’d like.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Edelgard,” Lysithea shakes her head, quickly putting her clothes back on. “Please, let me guide you back to the manor—let me do that much at least.”

“I remember the way. Don’t worry,” Edelgard says, and she moves to leave again.

Lysithea opens her mouth in a final plea to get Edelgard to stay, but her words fail her, and all that comes out is a defeated, pathetic exhale. She can do nothing but watch Edelgard descend the hill, leaving her behind and leaving a wound fresh over her heart that for a moment felt complete. 

Lysithea moves closer to the trunk of the mulberry tree again, pulling her legs to her chest, lowering her head to her knees. And even though she wants to, she doesn’t cry. Nothing comes out.

* * *

A rustle of grass stirs Lysithea from her thoughts, causing her to lift her head from her knees. She sees Osric stepping towards her, coming as a surprise.

“Osric?” Lysithea stands up, brushing her skirt off.

“I knew you’d be here,” Osric says, grinning. “I remember all the times we used to spend up here when we were younger.”

Lysithea blinks, her brow furrowing at his words. “Yeah… I guess we’ve come up here a few times.”

Osric nods his head, setting his hands behind his back and pacing around the clearing slowly, his gaze moving about. “Those moments are some of the happiest in my life, being able to share my time with you underneath this tree.”

Lysithea feels that haze return to her mind, and it tries filling her with an uneasy feeling. She chooses to ignore it, figuring it’s just the stress returning because of Edelgard leaving her, overwhelming her reason again. “That’s sweet. We’ve had fun together, that’s for sure.”

Osric directs his attention to Lysithea, stepping closer. “I need to admit something to you, Lys.”

Lysithea walks closer as well, curious, but not speaking up.

Osric smiles and lowers his head, gathering his courage. “It broke my heart to see you with Edelgard. Everything that I wanted to experience with you, I saw you do with her. It’s unbecoming of me, but I was rather jealous.”

Lysithea blinks from surprise, but she shakes her head with a nervous laugh. “Oh, stop. Don’t say such things.”

“I mean it, Lys,” Osric insists, his expression turning serious. “I was so happy to see you again for the first time after six years, but… I couldn’t say anything to you. You were with Edelgard. I didn’t wish to ruin everything.”

Lysithea feels that unease spread through her again, and Osric’s words merely puzzle her. But she cannot deny that intrigue that fills her, reminiscent of her youth and the happiness she always felt alongside him. “Osric, I…”

“You don’t need to say anything,” Osric shakes his head, and Lysithea suddenly realizes how close they stand facing each other now. “Forgive my moment of selfishness. I couldn’t live with the burden of carrying that on my chest any longer.”

“No, it’s fine,” Lysithea says, struggling to find her words. “But, Osric—”

“Lys,” he pleads, meeting her eyes with a hopeful gaze. “Can you allow me to be selfish for just a moment longer?”

Lysithea pauses, seeing that look within his eyes. She swallows, considering his request, and an emptiness inside of her that’s wounded and bleeding from Edelgard’s actions spurs her to nod, allowing Osric to continue.

Osric’s gaze drops to Lysithea’s lips, and he inches closer, caught in his hesitation. She reaches out, consumed by her own pain, brushing the long, wavy hair that always tumbles messily over his right eye behind his ear. Lysithea’s hand lingers, and it’s that tether that spurs Osric to lean forward and close that distance, kissing her.

As soon as Osric’s lips touch hers, Lysithea feels that dread inside of her burst tenfold. Every voice inside of her head is telling her that this is _wrong_, having Osric’s lips against hers while the taste of Edelgard is still fresh on her tongue. But Osric is filling that gaping emptiness inside of her, even just a little, and soon Osric’s moment of selfishness turns into Lysithea’s, as a way for her to distract herself from that hole in her heart.

Even if every one of her instincts is telling her that something isn’t right about this situation, she ignores it, letting her selfishness win out, desperately grasping for anything that can relieve that aching pain inside her chest.

* * *

Edelgard is only able to change into a fresh set of clothes at the manor before her mind inevitably wanders back to Lysithea, with a new emotion entering her thoughts. She begins to realize how that fear to be intimate and trusting of someone else turned into cruelty and heedlessness for Lysithea’s own feelings when she pushed her away, running as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

That guilt that fills her distracts her from any work she wants to lose herself in to keep her mind from Lysithea, and soon Edelgard finds herself in the library, in front of a stack of Ordelia house records, closing her eyes with a defeated sigh and placing her hands over her face. Edelgard can feel that guilt eat at her, poisoning her from the inside. It feels awful, one of the most crushing emotions that Edelgard’s ever experienced, and she can barely even begin to fathom the way Lysithea must feel on the receiving end of Edelgard’s carelessness and mistakes.

Edelgard abandons the records in front of her, her guilt evolving into a drive to act and a need to repair what she’s done. She leaves the manor, weaving her way through the inner gardens with that faint remembrance of the way guiding her through the forestry until she finds that same hill again. She quickly climbs the hill from behind the mulberry clearing, her steps so hurried that she can feel a burn within her legs to push herself so fast and so hard.

Edelgard feels all that guilt and remorse that filled her suddenly overflow from her once she reaches the top, tumbling out of her lips.

“Lysithea, I…I’m sorry,” Edelgard says, walking as fast as she can without breaking into a run towards the tree, her words laced with shallow breaths from exertion. “No fear on my end can excuse what I have brought on you so carelessly… I’m sorry for leaving you, I should have never even—Please, Lysithea, I lost my composure because I grew frightened when I realized how deeply I—”

Edelgard’s words catch in her throat when she rounds the trunk, dissipating into nothing but air at the sight that awaits her.

Every muscle in Edelgard’s body freezes when she sees the fallen white mulberry fruits stained a deep scarlet, filling Edelgard with that same dread she feels seeing blood spill on the battlefield.

And in the center of that blood lays Lysithea, motionless on the ground, the white locks of her hair discolored into red much like the mulberry fruit. 

Edelgard’s never felt more consumed by terror in her whole life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please be warned i am taking a short break from this fic to focus on other projects. i don't plan to be away for more than two or three weeks. thank you for understanding and i apologize for the disappointment.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everywhere Edelgard looks, she sees red; the very reach of the blood even blots Lysithea’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **content warning: blood** throughout the first section

The sight of blood staining everything—the grass, the mulberry fruits, the white of Lysithea’s hair—makes Edelgard’s muscles turn rigid, expelling all breath from her lungs. For a moment, she’s petrified by the sight, the sheer unexpectedness of it all—barely a half hour ago, Edelgard was here with Lysithea, alive, well, unharmed, uninjured. 

All that guilt for leaving Lysithea, once only caused by the rashness of Edelgard’s depart and the carelessness of her actions, now intensifies tenfold, knowing that if she had stayed, she could have protected her.

Edelgard jolts herself from that frozen state and runs to Lysithea’s side, kneeling down beside her, her knees crumpling the spotted red grass underneath. 

“Lysithea!” she shouts, with no restraint placed on her emotions, giving them full reign over her voice. “Lysithea, wake up!”

She turns Lysithea onto her back, seeing a large gash tearing through her shirt and a wound fresh on her stomach. Everywhere Edelgard looks, she sees red; the very reach of the blood even blots Lysithea’s lips.

Edelgard quickly rushes to take off the shawl around her shoulders to use it to cover the wound, but as she presses it to Lysithea’s skin, she feels a strange lack of wetness meet with the fabric. Instead, the blood has already crusted, and Edelgard suddenly feels another wave of fear seize at her chest. She leans down and sets her ear over Lysithea’s chest, though she cannot tell if the heartbeat she hears is Lysithea’s or her own pounding in her ears. She can hear a faint, shallow breath coming from Lysithea, and Edelgard lets out a desperate sigh of relief. The blood hasn’t stopped because Lysithea’s already dead, but that just puzzles Edelgard further.

Edelgard hooks a finger under the torn fabric to spread it further apart, quickly looking the wound over more closely. She sees the edge of burn marks on Lysithea’s stomach, and Edelgard’s eyes immediately flickers to Lysithea’s hands. One hand is coated in dried blood, darker than any other part of her, and everything registers in Edelgard’s mind.

Were time not so few and precious at this moment, Edelgard would go on and on again about how Lysithea’s intelligence never fails to impress her, with this time Lysithea’s quick thinking to use fire to burn and seal her wound shut quite possibly being what saved her life. 

Edelgard takes Lysithea into her arms and lifts her from the ground, and without a second further of delay, she starts running back for the Ordelia estate, her heartbeat still ringing in her ears.

With every step she takes, Edelgard’s mind is plagued with endless, constant admonishments, condemning her for everything she’s done wrong—embarking on this maddened, pointless quest for revenge against those who slither in the dark, lying to her people, endangering the Ordelia family more than they already were, and worst of all, abandoning Lysithea under the mulberry tree, deserting her when Lysithea wanted her the most, and failing to protect her when she knows full well she could have, but now Lysithea lays motionless in her arms, and it is all Edelgard’s fault.

She knows full well that Lysithea was only targeted as means to hurt her. Every misstep Edelgard made led to this, and Edelgard hates how Lysithea is the one to suffer for it.

Edelgard runs as fast as her feet will take her, despite that screaming pain shooting through her legs and the way her lungs burn, short of breath. She reaches the inner gardens before long, and as she approaches a set of doors to the manor, she finds Osric walking about.

Osric spots her too, but given that he’s seen Lysithea and Edelgard carry each other around before, he doesn’t think anything is wrong at first. “Oh, there you two are. I’d been wondering where you both got off to—”

“Listen closely,” Edelgard cuts him off, her voice trying to command power, but failing through the slightest cracks. “I need someone, a doctor, a healer, an apothecary, _ anyone _—to be summoned to this estate immediately! Tell the Count I order his presence at my side posthaste!”

Osric’s brow creases from confusion, though his eyes soon drop to Lysithea in Edelgard’s arms. His eyes widen at the red blotches everywhere across Lysithea’s body, and he covers his mouth, stepping back uneasily. “Is-Is that…blood?” he wavers, visibly warding off nausea.

“Osric!” Edelgard shouts to rattle him, loud with desperation, needing his help and knowing full well she cannot manage it alone. “That was an order!”

Her words snap Osric back into reality, and he slowly lifts his gaze to meet Edelgard’s, swallowing the bile rising in his throat. “Ladies Rosalind and Celia are proficient in white magic. Their talents should hold us over until another doctor is available,” he says with a hoarse voice.

“Then fetch them at once!” Edelgard shouts again, watching Osric nod at her and run to the doors with her to open them to let her pass through.

Osric leads Edelgard to an empty guest room, and Edelgard sets Lysithea down upon the bed there as Osric runs off to gather the people Edelgard ordered. Edelgard tries to lay Lysithea down as gently as she can, not wanting to worsen Lysithea’s wounds. Her eyes wander to Lysithea’s features, seeing how her expression is contorted with pain, yet weakened with unconsciousness. Edelgard can tell how much pain the wound upon her stomach must have caused her before she lost consciousness, and it fills Edelgard with guilt and fury to know someone inflicted this on her, harming her so gravely, all because Edelgard was so stupid as to leave her behind—

Edelgard exhales a ragged breath, trying to recompose herself. Rosalind and Celia would be arriving soon, and Edelgard doesn’t want to be an obstacle in their way. Edelgard’s gaze drops to the wound on Lysithea’s stomach, and disgust fills her as she reaches for the torn shirt Lysithea wears, untucking it from her skirt. The fabric is heavy and dense with the volume of blood that soaked and dried inside of it, and Edelgard feels bile rise in her throat as she lifts the shirt further up Lysithea’s midsection to expose the wound to make Rosalind and Celia’s jobs easier. The sight of the full wound, open and unobscured, makes Edelgard feel sick to her stomach, overcome with guilt and repulsion. She tears her gaze away, unable to look at it and otherwise distracted by Rosalind’s entrance.

“NO!” Rosalind wails at the sight of her daughter’s bloodied, unresponsive body, her voice a shriek. “How...How could this have happened? How could the goddess have been so cruel as to try to take my last child away from me… Why must she hurt you, too?!”

Edelgard reaches out for Rosalind’s shoulder to calm her, but before she can say anything, Celia quickly enters the room as well, letting out a horrified gasp to see Lysithea’s body.

“Lysithea!” Celia clutches her chest in shock, frozen at the doorway. “Don’t tell me she’s…”

“She can still breathe, and her heart still beats,” Edelgard cuts in, doing her best to keep her voice level. “But she needs emergency aid _immediately._ Any time we waste just puts her life in even more danger—”

Rosalind lets out another anguished wail, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. She breaks from Edelgard’s grasp and runs to Lysithea’s bedside, throwing herself over Lysithea and holding her daughter tightly. Her head shakes vehemently, desperate, heartbroken. “No! No, you cannot leave me so soon, Lysithea! You can’t leave me, too… You have to stay with me! Don’t leave your mother…”

Edelgard extends her hands toward Rosalind again, though she refrains from touching her at the last moment. She shakes her head, struggling to find the words. “Lady Rosalind, I implore you, if you wish to save her you must act _ now_.”

The only response Edelgard receives is a loud, broken sob coming through Rosalind’s gritted teeth. Edelgard swallows and clenches her jaw, racking her brain for what to say, what to do, but no matter how quickly her thoughts race, none lead her to a suitable course of action. A bright light out of the corner of her eye pulls Edelgard from her thoughts, and she glances over to see Celia with her hands together in front of her chest, a circle of runes summoned in front of her as she readies a spell.

“Rose,” Celia begins, using every ounce of willpower to maintain a strong and level voice, “you need to move.”

Rosalind looks up, surprised to hear Celia’s voice against her. Her eyes are widened, reddened with tears and filled with offense. “You are _ not _ keeping me from my daughter…!” she attempts in a yell, though her voice is so weak from her sobs that it comes out mangled and cracked.

“I am trying to save your daughter,” Celia counters, the glow of the runes brightening as she speaks. “And if you wanted to save her too, you would join me instead of wasting the little time Lysithea has left. You know as well as I do that my healing powers are those of a novice at best—you _ must _ help me! Your excellence in white magic is the only hope Lysithea has if she’s to hold out until professional help arrives!”

Rosalind flinches at Celia’s voice, seeking comfort by tightening her embrace over Lysithea’s body. Seeing this, Celia softens her expression, yet she doesn’t waver from where she stands.

“She’s family to me too, you know that?” Celia says, her voice considerate and understanding. “Which is why I’m going to tell you again: move out of the way, Rose. If you won’t help, then I will need to use all of my power, and I do not have the time to waste waiting for an opening to cast my spell.”

Celia advances with the spell, aiming the palms of her hands in Lysithea’s direction. Rosalind looks towards Celia before slowly returning her gaze to Lysithea. Rosalind frowns miserably, sniffling once more, and with every ounce of willpower that she has, she reluctantly breaks the embrace and steps back from Lysithea, her breaths shuddering as she holds back every urge to sob. Soon Rosalind’s hands alight with a green glow, and she taps into her dormant skill at white magic, channeling the fullest extent of her power to use it to heal Lysithea.

Edelgard can feel the light of the magic against her skin, brightening the room considerably. For a moment, she loses herself within a trance spurned by the aurora of blending magics, her gaze stunned and her lips parted, but encroaching footsteps break her from her trance. She turns her head, seeing Voltemand enter the room, his eyes widened from fear and concern at the sight of his daughter in such a critical condition beneath the light of white magic. 

“My dear Lysithea…” Voltemand says quietly, his voice muted by his shock.

Edelgard tightens her jaw, torn between the necessity to speak with Voltemand and the desire to wait by Lysithea’s side for her recovery. She looks at Lysithea, weighing on whether to leave, but her choice is made simpler by Celia glancing her way, forcing a grin despite the strain of the magic.

“No need to worry,” Celia says, speaking quickly due to her shortness of breath, yet still attempting to smile. “Lysithea had to get her proficiency in magic from somewhere, right..? She’s safe with us—now go.”

Edelgard sees the sincerity and reassurance in Celia’s eyes, and it spurs Edelgard to nod, stepping closer to approach Voltemand.

Voltemand’s gaze drifts away from Lysithea when Edelgard approaches him, a solemn frown on his face. “You wished for my presence, Your Majesty?”

Edelgard nods to that, glancing beyond Voltemand to outside the room. “Let us speak elsewhere. I require Lord Oliver and Osric, as well.”

“They are just beyond the threshold,” Voltemand steps back and gestures to the door with his arm, bowing his head.

A sourness settles in Edelgard’s mouth, making the lord of the house bow and take second position in his own estate, but Edelgard recognizes the necessity of it all. She exits the room, clenching her jaw when she can no longer see the light of the healing spells in the periphery. A few paces down the hall, she spots Oliver and Osric standing there, and she approaches them, causing the two of them to straighten their postures upon noticing her.

“How is she?” Osric asks hesitantly, his concern clear.

“Her condition is in the process of being stabilized,” Edelgard says, her voice encompassing the distance and evenness of a ruler at last. “I trust a doctor is on their way?”

“I notified the closest one,” Oliver says. “He is preparing medicine and supplies, and will be ready to be summoned here before the end of the hour.”

Edelgard nods her head, satisfied. “Now we must plan our retaliation.”

“You know who’s responsible for this?” Osric asks with a shocked look.

“Not the identity of the actual culprit, but I know of their affiliation with absolute certainty,” Edelgard says, her tone growing bitter with every passing word. “This was a provocation against the Empire and an act of war. This violence will not go unpaid—”

“Your Majesty, a moment,” Oliver cuts in, and despite the composure of his voice, his eyes are widened. “Were this to be a declaration of war, would it not be against the County of Ordelia instead of the Empire as a whole?”

Edelgard shakes her head stiffly. “No. This bloodshed was meant to weaken me, to _ hurt _ me—with no other intention than to cause calamity. This was their swift strike at the heart of the Empire, and the first indication of their resolve for war,” she growls, her frustration brewing.

Edelgard does not wait for anyone else to speak; rather, she looks to Voltemand, her eyes shining with her contempt and anger. “I am _ done _ standing aside idly as they continue to plot and scheme against me—just look at how much it’s cost me already! I will not continue with this inaction any longer. You must tell me, Count Voltemand—have you any standing militia under House Ordelia?”

Voltemand’s chin lowers, and reluctance spreads across his expression. “Mean you to seize control of my territory for the purpose of war?” he asks warily.

In response, Edelgard lifts her own chin defiantly. “While it may be within my power to do so, I will not exert my authority over your territory without your permission—though be damn well warned that I will circumvent any obstacle you place in my way to prevent me from going to war against these dastardly foes.”

Voltemand closes his eyes and lowers his head slightly, feeling without a choice in the matter. He knows she will proceed even without his cooperation, and even if he were to ally himself alongside her, his own inexperience with war would make him a hindrance to the cause. The only he has is to relinquish all control, as much as he doesn’t wish it. “...The resources and military men of the Ordelia territory are yours to command, Your Majesty.”

Edelgard nods her head, and for a moment, her eyes flash with gratitude before she resumes her persona as Emperor, turning to address the three of them with newfound vigor. “We must send a messenger to the Hrym territory at once—alert the Viscount to what has transpired here and demand that he and his elite force of soldiers report to this estate before two days’ time passes! Have one of his men journey to Enbarr to summon my retainer here as well, as House Ordelia will now become our base of operations. The troops at the Great Bridge of Myrddin must be mobilized immediately, as do the troops I demanded Duke Goneril to organize—and should he refuse another one of my orders, use whatever means necessary to force his cooperation, even if it requires using his younger sister as leverage! Her cooperation should be ensured at the mention of Lysithea’s condition; use it to gain control of their forces.”

Oliver bows his head. “I can use teleportation magic to visit these territories to enact these orders.”

“In the interim, I will prepare the estate for their arrival and summon our militia,” Voltemand says.

“On with it, then,” Edelgard says. “This is war. We haven’t time to waste.”

Oliver and Voltemand separate to carry out their orders, leaving only Osric left with Edelgard. Edelgard pays him little notice, intending to make her depart to handle her own matters, but Osric speaks up before she can go, his hands wringing in front of his chest.

  
“Your Majesty?” he asks, uncertain. “What is it that I should do?”

Edelgard stops and looks over her shoulder, a bit exasperated to have been stopped, but she lets out a breath to ease herself. “Your position in this house first and foremost is to be Lysithea’s retainer, yes?”

Osric nods his head slowly, unsure if he follows. “Yes, that would be correct…”

“Then you should aid the doctor once he arrives and never leave her side. She is going to need you through this,” Edelgard says, her eyebrows rising in a show of understanding. “Is that clear?”

Osric’s posture straightens at her words, and he finds himself filled with a new resolve and purpose. “Yes, Your Majesty. I understand.”

Edelgard lets out a hum to that, though she says nothing more on the subject, turning away. She can hear Osric step back into the room, and she lets go of a deep breath before she walks away. 

As Edelgard walks off, her mind wanders back to Lysithea and the fear that she felt seeing her in that bloody state. The image plays back in her mind over and over, haunting her, subjecting her to relive her mistakes and to constantly face them. Her regret hangs in the forefront of her mind, but she recognizes there is little she can do to change the past; instead, her only hope is to wait for Lysithea’s recovery and to trust in Rosalind and Celia’s abilities, even if the prospect makes her feel uncomfortable—but it’s all that she can do.

She returns to her shared chambers with Lysithea to commence the beginning stages of the war plan, awaiting Hubert’s arrival and Lysithea’s recovery.

* * *

The white magic that Rosalind and Celia used succeeds at stabilizing Lysithea’s condition, allowing the doctor to worry about treating the burns and properly dressing the wound instead of having to work to restore her vitals to a normal state. The strong usage of white magic combined with the stress of the wound has kept Lysithea in an unconscious state for a considerably long time, though the doctor stresses that it will only last until Lysithea regains her energy. 

Hubert has since arrived at the Ordelia estate, and he has enough self-preservation to not press or admonish Edelgard for the turn that her plan has taken, which Edelgard appreciates; when the guilt of her actions weigh upon her like shackles and iron, the last thing Edelgard needs is another reminder of her mistakes. With the location of those who slither in the dark’s stronghold identified, all that awaits them is the mobilization of the bulk of their forces, and the relocation of the Ordelia family, which can only be done once Lysithea wakes—no one in the family would dare to leave her behind in such a state, nor would it be practical to transport her while she’s unconscious.

Finding a brief period of respite from the throes of strategizing the war, Edelgard finds herself at Lysithea’s bedside. She sits in a chair by the bed, sitting on the very edge of it. She cannot fully bring herself at ease to lean back and properly situate herself in the chair, be it from her prominent concern for Lysithea’s wellbeing, or the presence of Osric, Rosalind, and Celia within the room with her. The three of them have rarely left Lysithea’s side, with Osric and Rosalind being the most obstinate in staying. Voltemand and Oliver have often visited, but Edelgard has them busy with matters of the war, dividing their attention. Celia has looked out to ensure that Osric and Rosalind do not end up neglecting themselves while overseeing Lysithea’s condition, always bringing them something to eat and drink—and even bringing something sweet with her for Lysithea every time, just in case that time will be the one when she wakes.

Edelgard looks Lysithea over as she lays on that bed, and she feels herself regress to that old state of being overcome with guilt upon the first sight of Lysithea. She despises the feeling and its occurrence, able to see how she has fallen back into that old, despicable habit, though she can do little to stop it. When she sees Lysithea’s battered state, Edelgard has no right to run away from her responsibility in allowing it to happen. She must endure and suffer the guilt as punishment for her transgressions. 

Since the doctor’s visit and Rosalind and Celia’s magic, a slight peace has been restored to Lysithea’s expression. The traces of that peacefulness upon Lysithea’s features worsens the guilt that Edelgard feels—she wonders what sort of peacefulness she could have seen had she not been seized by fear and uncertainty and ran away. A question of worthiness lingers in Edelgard’s mind—surely, she thinks, Lysithea deserves someone who isn’t so susceptible to fear and reluctance when it comes to these matters, as Edelgard can only envision outcomes where she hurts and fails those who dare come close to her. Everything is so bafflingly foreign to her, and when thrust into situations this novel and unusual, Edelgard merely wishes to remove herself from the equation as quickly as possible.

It’s that evasiveness that eclipses any chance of being worthy of someone else, Edelgard knows it painfully well. She would rather Lysithea save her time, because she knows that someone like herself is damned to hurt everyone whom she cherishes. Her delay to pursue anything beyond what exists in the present has cost her greatly, and furthers an unwillingness to act further, as Edelgard figures she’s lost her chance and her right to whatever she could have had.

The softest of breaths is enough to shake Edelgard from her thoughts, and she’s grateful for being saved from them. As she reattunes herself to her surroundings, Edelgard notices the way Lysithea begins to stir, and her eyes widen from surprise. She straightens her posture and leans closer, watching as Lysithea turns her upper body to the side, her brow creased from discomfort.

Lysithea lets out a low groan, her eyes still squeezed tightly shut. The rustle of the bedsheets garner the attention of the others in the room, and they all move closer, watching with bated breath to assess Lysithea’s condition. 

Lysithea pushes her upper body off the bed to sit up, though she relies heavily on her hands to keep her upright. She lets out another grunt at the exertion, and slowly her eyebrows lift and she comes to open her eyes, blinking numerous times and squinting as she reacquaints herself to the light. 

Be it through how close they sit, or perhaps a conscious effort to search for her, Lysithea’s gaze falls upon Edelgard first, and her eyes widen slightly once she begins to recognize her. “El…” she whispers, her voice hoarse from disuse.

Edelgard swallows when Lysithea’s gaze lands on her, and her concern far outweighs any of her previous thoughts of unworthiness and running away. “How are you feeling?”

No response manifests from Lysithea’s end, or at least none of the verbal suit. After a split second of Lysithea regaining herself from waking up, all of her emotions accumulate in a vast relief that overcomes Lysithea in that moment. Lysithea sets both hands on the sides of Edelgard’s face, pulling her close to press her lips to Edelgard’s in a kiss born from a boundless gratefulness to have awoken after such a perilous injury so she can gaze upon Edelgard once more.

Edelgard’s eyes widen from such an impulsive act, though she soon finds herself swept up in the rampant emotions, and she takes a gentle, careful hold on Lysithea’s shoulders, closing her eyes. When Lysithea pulls away shortly after, Edelgard finds herself stiffen upon remembering that others share this room with them, though that soon becomes an afterthought when Lysithea buries herself desperately in the crane of Edelgard’s neck, holding onto her so tightly as if she’s afraid she’ll lose Edelgard if she lets go.

Edelgard can feel Lysithea’s short breaths against her skin, rendered breathless by the overwhelming emotions that coursed through her. Edelgard adjusts her hold on Lysithea, moving to wrap her arms around her, setting one hand on Lysithea’s head to deepen their embrace.

The comfort of Edelgard’s embrace must tip Lysithea over the edge, as those ragged breaths soon turn into stifled cries, and Lysithea clutches onto Edelgard’s blouse with every ounce of strength her injured body affords her.

Yet even through the restrained cries, Lysithea is able to whisper one more thing and have it reach Edelgard’s ear.

“I love you.”

Another wave of shock seizes Edelgard’s muscles, causing her to freeze completely as her eyes shoot open. Edelgard is sure that, with the volume of Lysithea’s words, only she is able to hear it—yet the weight of the others’ presence eats at her, fixing Edelgard in place in a prism of fear. With the words only meant for her ears, Edelgard knows this cannot possibly be an act in their facade, and the fact that she now faces reality petrifies her. She cannot run, for the others obstruct her, and she cannot return those words, for her own mind and fears prevent her.

All Edelgard can do is slowly regain control over herself again and renew her tight embrace around Lysithea. She forces herself to look off to the side, wrought with guilt to the point of being unable to stomach the sight of her. 

All that guilt settles in the pit of Edelgard’s stomach and aches, aches with the pain of a dagger lodged within her abdomen, being twisted with the intention of tormenting her without rest.

And with certainty, Edelgard knows she isn’t worthy of any sort of love Lysithea has for her.

**Author's Note:**

> you all should follow me on twitter @harudites


End file.
